


endless summer dream

by iisburr



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: ACTUAL ROBBERY, Alternate Universe - Non-Despair, First Kiss, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Light Angst, M/M, amami smokes weed and has a juul..., ill be dead before i call him Oma, ouma kokichi: mint ice cream hater, starts off during spring break and they’re in their final year of hs, they go to hopes peak tho, this isnt a crackfic but the tags make it sound like one
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2018-10-28 22:21:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 43,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10840641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iisburr/pseuds/iisburr
Summary: What could possibly be better than committing crimes, neon green booty shorts, and a terrible overuse of memes?Oh, yeah, add "falling in love with your best friend" to the mix too. That's kind of a crucial component.---also known as: the fic where ouma and amami do a lot of illegal stuff and never get caught, surprisingly.





	1. first is the worst

**Author's Note:**

> helo! so this is a new multichap fic im starting! ill try to update once every week, and it should be about 15-20 chapters long in total! 
> 
> enjoy the memes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lots of frozen ice is shoplifted, and good times are had by all.

"Amami-chan, what are we doing?" Ouma suddenly asked, making Amami turn his head from the movie screen, mouth still full of cheese balls as he mumbled out a, "Huh?"

Ouma reached for the remote in between himself and Amami and paused the movie they were watching. The Bee Movie can wait; Ouma's existential crisis can't. 

"We're in our last year of high school, and... well, look at us! This is pitiful!" Ouma announced, loosely gesturing to the abandoned pop tart boxes and game controllers. "You think so? I kinda like our movie nights, Ouma." Amami replied, wiping cheesy dust from his lips onto the sleeve of his shirt. 

Amami and Ouma always had movie nights on Friday evenings. Since it was the very start of spring break, they were crashing at Ouma’s house until they had to go back to school. They'd eat some food and watch a movie, and then decide if they wanted to stay inside and play video games or wreak havoc upon the neighborhood. That was how they made the discovery that egg yolk doesn't wash out of clothes—no matter how hard you scrub. The two boys decided to stop doing bad things to people’s houses and cars (and occasionally children) when the police were called. Amami only regretted it a little, since the people they did bad things to were total asswipes.

"Doing this is really fun since all my ideas are pretty great, but it's getting kinda... hmm..."

"Bland?" Amami suggested, fiddling with his ear piercings. 

"Yes! Bland!" Ouma snapped his fingers and grinned at the green-haired boy. "We need adventure, Amami-chan! I've seen Hachi so many times I don't even cry anymore! Luckily for you, I know just where to find it!"

Amami smiled at this—he’d felt that their movie nights were getting a bit plain as well, but he still enjoyed Ouma's company—until he realized Ouma was thinking of something a lot more sinister. 

"Let's rob a gas station," Ouma said, lilac eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. Amami was just hoping they’d do something like invite over Momota or maybe walk through the neighborhood, but that wasn’t the case.

"Uh, Ouma, I'm pretty sure that's illegal," Amami said, watching Ouma stand up from the couch they had been sitting on and run into the kitchen, shuffling through cabinets in search of something.

"Relax, Amami-chan! We're not gonna get arrested." A big industrial keg was placed onto the counter by Ouma. "We're just gonna hit up the slushie machine two or three times. That's all!" 

Amami decided that, really, Ouma could've suggested worse. Maybe it'd be fun? Even if they did get caught, Ouma could lie his way out of anything. He's lied for petty, little things, such as getting a free kids meal even though he's eighteen, and he's also lied for larger things, like convincing his parents that huge party he threw was just him and Amami, not the whole entire school. Ouma had a record of lying and getting away with things.

They walked to a nearby gas station since Amami didn't do so well with cars. “Here’s the plan: I’ll steal the slushie, you’ll be the distraction. Now, Amami-chan, your job is essential to this plan if we want to get away with it! You can make no mistakes, okay? Do your best, soldier!” Ouma declared, placing a hand on Amami’s shoulder.

“Well, what do I distract the employee with?” Amami asked, opening the door to the gas station and hearing a tired, “Hello”, welcome them into the store. A mix of yellow and white light shone down from the fixtures on the ceiling, and faint pop music could be heard playing from a speaker system. One tired employee was the only other person in sight, and Amami felt some sympathy for them, as he had worked a few tiring graveyard shifts at a nearby 24/7 pizza place.

“Anything! Tell them you have butt hemorrhoids for all I care! Just make sure that employee doesn’t see me!” Ouma whispered. Amami ruffled Ouma’s hair and then walked away.

Ouma watched as Amami walked up to the employee closest to the slushie machines, briefly hearing an, “Excuse me, do you have a moment to talk about our lord and savior Jesus Christ?” come from that direction. He quickly took off and unzipped the backpack he was wearing, and pulled out the keg. There were twenty-six possible flavors to choose from, so Ouma decided he'd pick a little bit of everything, no matter how hideous. This would be the cocktail of the century! He would be a legend, the hero that everyone deserved and needed!

Amami seemed to be doing great at pretending to be one of Jehovah's Witnesses, and the only reason he knew exactly what to say was because this wasn't the first time he had to pretend to be one.

Ouma was done in a minute or two, filling the keg to the brim with your classic flavors like cherry, and your atrocious ones like taco shell or chicken wing. The salad flavor isn't even that bad, give it a chance! He flipped the lid back on the keg and shoved it in his backpack, making sure no one had seen him in the process of doing so. Luckily, there was really no one else inside the gas station at this time.

Amami was still forcing the poor employee into a prayer circle at the time, so Ouma figured he'd grab a couple boxes of Zebra Cakes and a bag of those puffy Cheetos before hitting the road. He slowly shoved them in his backpack, careful not to arouse suspicion with the crinkling of the plastic packaging. Once Amami was done, he returned to Ouma and the two walked out together, trying very hard to restrain themselves from bursting into laughter. They had done it! They had committed a very illegal act, no matter how little they took, but had still gotten away with it! What a story this would be; they would surely be the talk of the town! There were no sensors to pick up barcodes on unpurchased items so just a few more steps and they would be home free!

"Hey, kid, lemme see your bag for a second." Amami and Ouma both turned around to see the tired-looking employee standing in behind them. “Why? It just has my school stuff in it. I’ve been studying for tests like crazy!” Ouma lied. Amami tried not to McFreaking lose it right there, purely because Ouma sounded so honest and innocent when he said those words. Ouma had never studied for a single test in his life.

“Just let me see it. If you really only have papers and books in there, then there should be no problem with me checking it out.”

Ouma grimaced—he was hoping their cashier would be too tired to really pay attention, much less care if Ouma stole stuff. Amami and Ouma both looked at each other, at the employee, and at each other again, and did the only thing they could think of. 

They turned around and bolted through the doors, eyes wide as they ran through the parking lot. The employee ran outside after them, hopping into a car. 

"Have no fear, Amami-chan! I can get us out of this!" Ouma declared, shooting Amami a grin. Amami sighed, grasping on to Ouma's hand so they could stick together. Ouma's hands were warm, in contrast to his milky white skin that looked like… uh, milk? Really clean sheets? There’s not a lot of milky white things in the world.

They kept running down the road, occasionally weaving in and out of the trees nearby to try and throw off whoever was chasing them. Ouma looked at Amami, and then to a house with a large backyard that was nearby. They both nodded to each other and then ran in that direction, hopping over the fence, separating their hands.

Amami didn't like that feeling of separation for some reason. Maybe he was just so worried about getting arrested, he didn't want to get caught alone. If he went down, Ouma would go down with him. That's what best friends do, after all. 

"Ouma! My shirt is caught!" Amami yelled, tugging on his shirt that was trapped in between the chain-link fence. Ouma placed his hands on his hips and grinned like a cat with cream. "Well, you should've worn your second favorite shirt." 

"Ouma!" Amami shouted, rolling his eyes. Ouma ran over to Amami, helping him pull his shirt out. They both ran over to a large tree, Amami climbed up the tree first, and then Ouma threw the backpack up towards him. Then Ouma climbed up, registering the sounds of a car pull into the driveway.

"I don’t think we’re in the clear just yet…” Amami whispered, letting Ouma grab onto his hand and pull himself up a couple branches. The tree looked sturdy at first, but now Amami feared the branch he was sitting on would snap underneath him. 

"We'll be fine! We just have to wait out here for a couple minutes. It'll be fun!" Amami sighed, feeling Ouma let go of his hand once more. "Okay, okay fine. I trust you, Ouma." Amami swallowed and licked his lips nervously, frantically looking to the back door of the house, ignoring Ouma's “Oh, how sweet of you, Amami-chan!” If that door opened and someone walked outside, it's game over. 

"It's 1 am. I highly doubt someone will wake up from their sleep just to help some crazy guy wearing a 7/11 visor." Ouma said, laughing. Eventually, Amami started laughing too, and they both just sat there, up in some random tree, laughing so much that no noise was coming out. What Ouma said wasn't even that funny, but the conundrum they found themselves stuck in was utterly hilarious. This was going down in the history books. They stayed up in the tree for about fifteen minutes until they were sure the employee was gone, munching on the food Ouma had stolen. Amami guessed it was probably... twenty dollars’ worth of stolen snacks? He didn't regret a thing though because dipping a Cheeto in slushie proved to be one of the best things Amami had ever tasted. 

"Did we literally just rob a gas station and get away with it?" Amami couldn't keep the grin off his face as they hopped down the tree, quickly climbing back over the fence. Amami was careful not to get his baggy shirt caught this time.

"Yep!" Ouma giggled, unwrapping a Zebra Cake. "All in a day's work for Kokichi Ouma! We should do this again!" Ouma declared, finishing off half of the Zebra Cake in a second. Amami liked the sound of that word. Again. 

"We definitely should."

They sat down on the roof, taking sips of the slushie and trying to figure out what flavor they had just tasted. They'd never done anything like this before. Their Friday nights consisted of them playing video games and gossiping about their classmates. Ouma was relatively close to Iruma and Momota, so he always got the best gossip from them, which he then relayed to Amami. Not that their gossip nights were boring or anything, but only so many confused teens can get arrested for illegal drug possession. By the end of their final year, most of the drama had died down, and no one was really doing anything stupid or irrational anymore.

Save for Amami and Ouma.

"Hmm... Watermelon with... a hint of bubblegum and pudding." Amami said, wiping a bit of the slushie from his face. The brisk night air blew in his face, making his green hair spin and twirl in the breeze. White flecks of light illuminated the sky above them, looking like snowflakes frozen in the air. Amami felt so close to the stars while sitting on this roof, and why that was Amami didn’t know.

"Chocolate pudding or vanilla?" Ouma asked him.

"...Vanilla." Ouma looked down into the keg, looking at the different slushie colors to decide if Amami was correct.

"You're on a roll, Amami-chan!" Ouma announced, taking a sip from the straw that was poked in the top of the keg. 

"Honestly, half of my blood is probably just artificial flavoring at this point," Amami said, brushing a strand of green hair from his eyes and watching Ouma lick his lips.

"That was pure taco shell. One hundred percent." Ouma said, making a gagging motion with his finger. 

"How close do you think we are to food poisoning right now?" Amami questioned, cocking his head to the side and letting out a breathy chuckle. 

"I can already feel the tapeworm!" Ouma grinned, standing up and jumping down from the roof onto a small, second-floor terrace. In their freshman year, they had timidly climbed up on the roof together, only to immediately run back inside and wonder if they destroyed the ceiling of the room below where they once stood. Now, it had become their designated place to hang out, other than the couch. They'd just sit there, looking up at the stars and planes spanning across the sky, talking about whatever random thing crossed their mind.

"You coming, Amami-chan?" Ouma asked, hand on the door. Amami jumped down in response, and the two made their way downstairs. 

"Today was fun, Ouma. My shirt is destroyed, but I regret nothing." Amami said, turning on the Wii U. Ouma was about to get crushed in Mario Kart for the fifth time that month. Mario Kart was a ruthless thing, that could destroy the best of friendships and make people turn against each other for all eternity. 

Amami knew that would never happen with him and Ouma. They trust each other room much. 

"Well, that's good because we're doing it tomorrow!" The purple-haired boy plopped down on the ground and pulled out some Wii U remotes from a drawer, each one covered in numerous stickers and tapes, given their own special flair. One of them had orange juice caked all around the arrow pad, so it was virtually useless.

"Huh? Where are we going this time?" They couldn't go to the gas station again; they probably couldn't ever go back. Thank god the place was so run down there were no cameras. 

"It's a surprise!" Ouma grinned mischievously. "Now let's play rainbow road!" 

Tomorrow was going to be interesting, to say the least. 

And then Amami beat Ouma at Mario Kart and destroyed his innocence, what was left of it anyway.


	2. two kinds of theft

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A trip to the aquarium? A nice, family-friendly place? What could go wrong there?
> 
> Anything if Ouma is involved. Amami serves as damage control.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im so sorry this is uploaded late, but it's a little longer than usual so!! i hope you all don't mind!

When Amami woke up the next morning, the reality of what they had done the night prior immediately set in.

Amami felt like he had a sugar-hangover. The exact opposite of a sugar-high. He couldn't even think about eating a pop-tart without gagging. 

Meanwhile, Ouma was in the kitchen making waffles out of soda and marshmallows. Amami decided to skip out on breakfast. 

Ouma sat down next to Amami, holding a plate full of dark purple waffles with caramel drizzled on top. Amami looked away. 

"So, where are we going today?" He asked Ouma.

"Like I said, it's a surprise! Be patient!" Ouma chimed. Amami groaned in response to that, while cracking his knuckles and his back. Ouma let out a gasp. "Eww! It's like you're a squashed bug! I hate it!" Ouma squirmed in his seat, clearly uncomfortable with the odd angles Amami was bending his fingers at.

Amami cracked three more of his knuckles, just because Ouma was making the ugliest face possible, and Amami wanted to preserve the moment. It was kind of adorable.

But like, someone else would find it adorable. Amami didn't find it adorable, nope! 

...Can't friends call each other adorable though? Girls do it all the time! Amami should know, he has twelve little ~~monsters~~ sisters.

After Ouma had scarfed down his waffles in record time (3.62 minutes! What a madman!) they both got changed and got ready to go wherever Ouma had planned. Ouma said it was within walking distance. Amami wore a black t-shirt a pair of denim jeans, and some Birkenstocks that he had reluctantly bought as a dare, while Ouma had decided to wear the brightest ensemble possible, consisting of a neon blue hoodie, hot pink ankle socks with lime stripes, and red shorts. 

They actually walked for two hours before actually reaching their destination, only having a combination of iSpy and a new game called, "push Amami into the middle of a busy street" to keep them occupied. Amami couldn't feel his left foot (left Birkenstock), and was sweating buckets, but Ouma seemed to be doing just fine.

The two boys stood in front of a large outdoor mall, shops and stands in every corner, and the smell of salted pretzels and hamburgers potent in the air. Amami shot Ouma a perplexed look, because neither of them had brought any kind of money to buy anything. 

What exactly were they doing here? 

Ouma wordlessly led Amami in between some shops, navigating his way throughout the relatively crowded area. Ouma seemed to know where he was going. 

Amami began to speak, observing a band of violinists standing outside a clothing shop, "Hey, Ouma, I don't know if I'm up for something like what we did last night, so if you're taking me t—"

"Aww, Amami, I thought you liked doing illegal stuff!" Ouma pouted, sticking his bottom lip out a bit. Amami rolled his eyes and smiled. 

"I like doing illegal stuff if you can't get caught. I guess I just like taking the safe route." The green-haired boy shrugged, looking around at all the shops nearby. An ice cream place specifically caught his attention, and whether he was going to eat the ice cream or use it to pull a prank on Ouma, he didn't really know just yet. "I guess being dangerous every now and then isn't that bad either, though..." He murmured that last part more to himself than to Ouma.

"Yeah, true, but you gotta live a little! Be illegal! Don't be such a bore, Amami-chan~ Unless... unless you're scared of doing dangerous things?" Amami scoffed. 

"Aw, my poor little angelic and pure Amami-chan." Ouma flailed his fingers around as he spoke. Amami folded his hands together behind his head and looked up towards the sky, which was a soft blue color with white whisps of clouds creating shapes in the air. The sun was covered up by one of them, thankfully, so there were no more harsh beams shining down on the two of them. 

Today was a nice day; perfect for dumping ice cream down someone's pants. Using a flavor like cotton candy or blue moon would really compliment the sky. "...I guess you're right. Life gets pretty monotonous otherwise."

Ouma hummed out a noise of approval. "That's a big word you just used, little man! Good for you." It took a lot of Amami's willpower to resist making a joke about Ouma's height, because Amami was at least ten inches taller than Ouma. Compared to Amami, Ouma probably looked like a small child, both in stature and because of his squishy baby-face. "Are we there yet? Sorry, I just feel like I've passed that store before," Amami impatiently asked, pointing towards a shop that sold cups. Like just cups. 

"Oh, we passed it a while ago. I just wanted to try and ruin your Birkenstocks," Ouma answered. Amami gasped. 

"Wow, that was cruel," Amami laughed, "They're comfortable shoes, you know! Just give them a chance... And here I was planning to take you out to a nice dinner afterwards..."

Ouma perked up at this. "What kind of dinner, exactly?" 

"Nothing much, just oven baked stuffed crust pizza. I guess I'll just have to eat it by myself though..." Amami and Ouma waited for some cars to pass before they could cross the busy crosswalk in front of them. 

"No! I'm sorry for my sins! Please let me eat pizza with you!" Ouma begged, clasping his hands together and trying to congregate fake tears in his eyes. "No no no, you've left me with no choice. I suppose I'll be dining by the lonesome candlelight once more..." Amami sighed and looked down at his shoes, furthermore enforcing the facade that there really was a dinner planned. 

In regards to what Amami had been truly planning for dinner, was a microwaveable cup of easy-mac and a couple episodes of RuPaul's Drag Race, but Ouma didn't know that. 

"B-But... pwease...!" Ouma kneeled down at Amami's feet, forcing him to a stop in the middle of the street they had happened to be crossing. 

Amami sighed once more, looking down at Ouma, who was now promptly kissing his shoes, which was weird because Ouma loathed those shoes. "Ouma... please get up. There are cars waiting," Amami prompted, seeing more cars waiting for them to move out of his peripheral vision. Amami had enough patience to last him an eternity of Ouma's begging and pleading, but did these drivers? 

Just as Amami thought about that question, a loud, angry _hoooooooonk_ from one of the cars alerted both him and Ouma.

Ouma continued begging, nonetheless.

"Please, oh please! Take me out for stuffed crust pizza, my beloved Amami-chan!" Ouma's fake tears were now streaming down his face in large, grape-sized bubbles. Amami's face felt hot; this was absolutely humiliating. Ouma only used the term "beloved Amami-chan" because he was well aware it did something to Amami's brain, making him stutter and forget his train of thought. 

If only Amami knew why that happened, though... Maybe he just gets shocked by how Ouma can say some really absurd things at times. 

_Don't fall for it_ , thought Amami. _The closest oven-baked pizza place around here is way too fancy, and god knows you don't have the money for that. Stand your ground, Rantarou!_

"I'll return all the stuff I stole from you!" Now Amami was intrigued. "Stuff? What stuff?" Amami jumped as he heard another loud _hoooonk honk_. Ouma sniffled, meeting Amami's eyes, his own purple eyes clouded with tears. Ouma said, "Well, I'll tell you what I stole once you treat me to dinner! If you don't do that, then I'll just steal more stuff from you!" Ouma pouted. 

Amami frowned, pulling Ouma up from the dirty road. "Fine, if you give them back, I'll take you out for pizza, okay?" So much for being assertive. Ouma's eyes shone with a new light, and Amami could barely hear Ouma's reply of "Okay!" over the loud, blaring _HOOOONK_ of the car closest to them. 

They'd been standing in the middle of the road, what Amami now realized was a highway filled with people trying to get home from work, for about five minutes, and a line of over thirty cars was piling up. 

Keep in mind, Amami absolutely _hates_ cars.

Ouma shouted a half-assed "Sorry!" at the driver, and then skittered off the road, Amami following close behind. Ouma seemed relatively pleased with what just happened. Amami was quite the opposite. 

Eventually, after being forced to listen to not one, but two of Ouma's made-up songs about Shrek 5, they arrived at Ouma's secret destination: the aquarium.

The aquarium was an old but modern place; the building itself was an odd shape, which only added to the contemporary flair. The walls were uneven tiles of cerulean and cobalt blue, and even the outside smelled like saltwater. Ouma pulled two, crumpled up tickets from god knows where and placed one in Amami's hand. 

"We're here!" Ouma chimed, "I heard you saying something about how you wanted to go, so I figured it'd be a good idea! Whaddya think? Aren't I the greatest?" The purple haired boy handed his ticket to a lady standing in a booth, waiting for Amami to follow suit. Amami noticed both of Ouma's socks were rolled down and bunched up around his ankles now, kinda like leg warmers. 

The two of them walked inside, the smell of seawater penetrating their noses, to which Ouma coughed at. They went down an escalator, eyes falling on an array of tanks embedded into the walls, each a different color and home to a different species.

Amami had always found marine life mysterious, and kinda majestic. He had mentioned to Ouma that he wanted to come here a few months ago. He was glad Ouma remembered, because that was so unlike him to do so.

The first thing they saw was a tank full of little fish, each one swirling in and out of different plants and artificial decor. There was nothing really interesting in there, so they moved on to the next room. To get there, two had to walk through a large tunnel, with plexiglass surrounding them on every side, including the ground they walked on. Amami felt weird like this; he felt open and exposed.

Ouma felt like he was in that one level of Mario Kart called Koopa Cape, where you have to go down a big, translucent tunnel that has a perfect view of the ocean. 

Looking around, Amami noticed a stingray lazily swimming along the top of the tunnel, and a lionfish gracefully zipping around the tank. The tank was a bit green in hue, thanks to all the aquatic plants that had been added in order to make the environment feel more homely for the fish. 

Ouma audibly wheezed, shakily pointing to a moray eel, a very ugly moray eel, and saying, "It's you!" 

Amami snickered, meeting eyes with the eel in accusation. "Okay. Well that one looks like you," Amami pointed towards a grouper near the bottom of the tank.

"Oh, it is so on!" Ouma grinned. 

Amami began focusing less on how cool each fish was, and began focusing more on which one was the ugliest. Ouma was a lot better at pointing them out, though, so eventually Amami just gave up. The long walk here was definitely worth it, as Amami found himself enjoying his day out with Ouma a lot more than he had anticipated. Ouma said he looked like a hammerhead shark, a bright green seahorse, and an odd fish that Amami couldn't remember the name of, but it looked more like a salamander than a fish. 

They walked past jellyfish that rippled and glided in the water, and they walked past penguins that dove into the water and performed tricks, seemingly more for their own entertainment instead of pleasing the people watching them. One particular penguin, a small little puffin, kept climbing up to the highest platform in the tank, and jumping off it, landing headfirst in the water and feathers brushing against the rocky flooring of the tank. 

Amami leaned over towards Ouma, pointed at the little puffin beginning to make its trip back up to the platform for another swirling jump, and whispered, "That one's you."

"Huh? But there's nothing wrong with him!"

"And there's nothing wrong with you." Amami's face heated up once he realized he had said that. Where did that come from? Was he possessed by a ghost? 

"Ha, gay." Ouma's cheeks looked a little pink, too. Amami was secretly glad Ouma hadn't taken his remark as awkwardly as he could've. 

Then, the two of them kept walking to a section of the aquarium with tanks where you were allowed to touch the animals. There was one tank dedicated to small sharks of all different colors. Their skin was rough, and some had little scars from their days out in the ocean. In the next tank, there were various sea animals, like horseshoe crabs and sea urchins.

"Amami, I have an idea." Ouma said, eyes planted firmly on a section of the tank labeled, "Starfish". Amami looked up from the shark he was petting, narrowing his eyes and mouthing, "No" from across the room. 

However, Ouma must've mistaken that for, "Go," and proceeded to slip the starfish out of the tank with little struggle and swathe it in his scarf. He happily trotted back over to Amami, now smelling of saltwater. "Oh my g— _put him back_."

Ouma cocked his head to the side in confusion. "Him? I thought it was a her; pink is a very feminine color," Ouma said, while pulling his scarf forward from his neck just a bit in order to see the starfish better. Amami sighed, "Ouma, she won't survive if you leave her in your scarf. Just put her back." The purple-eyed boy looked contemplative for a moment, but then said, "I have a better idea." 

Ouma's hand found Amami's, and soon the former was pulling the latter all the way to the front door, earning concerned and annoyed looks from the people they ran past. 

It was still fun, though; just the two of them, running through a big, clear tunnel with aquatic fish peering down on them. They ran past the stingrays, and the eels, and the sharks, all witnesses to their heinous crime of stealing a starfish from an aquarium. Ouma's water-soaked shoes squeaked against the ground and created the most obnoxious sound ever, and Amami's arm hit some little kid in the face, but they were still smiling. 

Ouma threw open the doors of the aquarium, making a sharp right and running behind a building. 

"We can't go back now," Ouma gasped, hands grabbing onto his knees to steady himself, "We're fugitives." 

"Where are you gonna put that thing?" Amami asked. The likelihood of Ouma walking back to the aquarium and returning his new pet was very low, so Amami decided to just focus on what to do now. 

"Go to that pretzel stand," Ouma pointed towards a little cart nearby, "and ask for a cup of salt. I'll handle the rest." Amami walked over to the stand and asked for a little cup of salt, which earned him a confused look from the person working behind it, but he got the salt nonetheless. He looked around for Ouma, only to see him running out of a restaurant with a cup filled to the brim with water. How he got that, Amami had no clue. It was a miracle Amami was able to get a cup of salt from the guy working the pretzel stand as well. 

He met Ouma in the middle of the distance between them, and the two of them both went back behind the building they originally hid behind. Amami handed the cup of salt to Ouma, which he then mixed in with the cup of water. Ouma sprinkled a good amount of the now-salty water on the ground, and then placed the starfish in the center of the puddle. He sprinkled more water on top of the starfish.

"Quick, Amami-chan, google how long a starfish can live out of water!" Ouma said. Amami pulled his phone out of his pocket and typed in a quick google search. "Uh, this article says starfish can live 5 days out of water, but this one says they can only live 10 seconds out of water!" Ouma smiled and said, "I think she's fine, though! She'll be okay! But, what should we do with her now?"

"Let's just go home. She should be able to make the trip."

"B-But Amami-chan! The pizza!" 

Oh, right. Amami had forgotten about his promise. "Tell you what, we can just get it to go! Does that work for you?" Ouma happily nodded. Amami had no clue how he was going to do that, but since Ouma probably begged his way into getting a free cup of water, he could probably do the same for the pizza. 

"Say, Ouma... How exactly did you get that cup of water earlier?" Amami asked, curious. Ouma waved his hand in the air like he was swatting away a bug. "I just said I was dehydrated. My skin makes it look like I am!" Ouma explained. "The guy at the pretzel stand—he probably gave you all that salt cause he thought you had chronic diarrhea," Ouma snickered out.

"What!? No!" Amami looked absolutely mortified, because some poor teenage boy had to give him a cup of salt because he thought Amami had the runs. 

"It's true! Vendors have to do that stuff if it's a medical emergency!" Ouma retorted.

Amami frowned at Ouma, asking him, "Are you just pulling my leg?"

"No! It's a real medical thing!" 

Amami shot Ouma a look, to which Ouma stuck his tongue out at, causing Amami to do the same in return. 

They both decided to hide the starfish inside Ouma's scarf once more and to simply hope for the best. Ouma located the oven baked pizza place using a directory, and the two of them went there together. It was getting a bit darker out, the sky turning shades of pinks and oranges; perfect for sitting outside. Amami realized that you have to pay for your food before it's made at take-out, but if you sit down and eat it, you only have to pay at the end. 

They walked inside, both agreeing on a large, stuffed crust, cheese pizza. Then they sat outside to wait and eat. Little fairy lights were strung from the roof of the restaurant to the fence, and then wrapped around it. It was like a dreamscape. The two of them chatted under the glow, mostly about how amazing Ouma was for winning their competition earlier. Amami didn't even know it was a competition to begin with; it was more of a game to him. 

Twenty minutes later, a waiter brought them their pizza in a box, and Ouma had to restrain himself from drooling all over it. 

A full moon was out in the sky, white stars peppering the spaces around it. The last traces of dark clouds began to vanish into the air, and the sun had disappeared behind the horizon. Ouma giggled happily, biting into a slice of the pizza and grinning from ear to ear, a bit of sauce on his nose, causing Amami to smile. 

Oh, shit. 

That was by far the cutest thing Amami had ever seen in his whole life, which led him to the shocking realization that: he's very fucking gay for this boy with hair greasier than a deep fryer. 

(Is it really that shocking though?)

Amami tried to take a bite of his pizza; he's a cool guy, he should just play it off as if nothing happened. Because nothing did happen. He just likes Ouma's face and his smile and his laugh and his stupid rolled up socks around his ankles. 

"Amami-chan?" Ouma asked, trying to lick the sauce off his nose. 

Okay, maybe this is going to be a problem. 

"What?" Amami replied. 

Ouma looked around nervously before leaning closer to Amami. "How are we gonna pay for this? Is it a," Ouma wiggled his eyes brows at Amami, "dine and dash?" He looked kind of excited when he asked that, which of course made Amami lose his train of thought. He doesn't have a crush on Ouma though! The pizza just confused him because it was so good and he lost his train of though! Yeah!

Okay, that sounds like a huge lie, and after knowing Ouma for four years Amami has become an expert at lie detecting. 

"Uhhh... Yeah." Amami replied, kind of idiotically. 

"M'kay. Let's do it on 'Go' in 5... 4..."

"Wait, what?"

"3...2.." Ouma put his slice of pizza in the cardboard box the rest of the pizza was in. Amami did the same. 

"1... GO!" 

Ouma stood up on his chair, hurling himself over the tiny restaurant fence. Amami's eyes widened as he realized he had to follow suit. He jumped on the table and over the fence, hearing a couple cries from a few waiters. Amami and Ouma wasted no time running as fast as they could, back to Ouma's house. It was their third high-speed chase in the last 24 hours. Amami's legs were _on fire_

Amami held the box of pizza, and Ouma made sure his beloved little starfish was still okay. Thankfully, it was. 

The two boys ran past the aquarium and all the little shops, people watching in curiosity as Ouma giggled and held onto Amami's hand once more.

Fuck, dude. That was really gross 'cause Ouma had sauce on his fingers, and now Amami's hand is saucy but like, Ouma's hand is so little and warm and Amami might have a crush on his friend. Like just a little one. 

Eventually, they were out of the mall, and they seemed to have lost the waiter chasing behind them. Ouma still kept running though, even though he always waited at a busy crosswalk. That was something that confused Amami, because wouldn't Ouma get some weird kick out of running past cars in the road. 

Maybe he was waiting at the crosswalks because he knew Amami didn't like cars...

No! That's stupid! Ouma just wants to take good care of his starfish and this pizza. It has nothing to do with Amami.

After a solid fifteen minutes of running, non-stop, Amami started to feel very tired. He asked Ouma if they could take a break, since they've definitely lost the waiter by now. Ouma agreed, and they sat down on a child's play structure: one with big slides and a rock wall. Ouma remembered the time he got his knee stuck in between one of the bars on the structure, and they had to evacuate the whole playground and get soap and butter to free him. 

"Hey, look, it's Cassiopeia." Ouma said, pointing at a blob of stars in the sky, lying down on the structure. 

"Really?" Amami asked, surprised. 

"Nope. I lied." Amami's surprise then vanished into thin air. 

They talked and talked and talked, and finished the whole box of pizza with smiles on their faces and sauce in their hair (from a good ole pizza fight). The two walked back to Ouma's house after that, and arrived there at 10 P.M..

Amami had subconsciously walked there, and he only realized that he'd never asked to spend the night once he walked inside the house. Ouma said he could, saying, "My house is open to Amami-chan 24/7!" Amami's cheeks reddened. 

Amami definitely had a crush on Ouma.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im probably making the story progress too fast but ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ they've known each other for four years nothing is too fast 
> 
> also i know NOTHING about marine life so i might've sacrificed some fish facts for the gay. whoops


	3. cute boy site!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The deep web is mostly bad and illegal stuff. Ouma and Amami explore the more PG13 sites.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am so sorry this is so late!! :( i was really occupied with exams and summer assignments so i didnt have much time to write!! pls forgive aaa
> 
> but anyway!! ill definitely be able to update more now that school is out!! hope you enjoy the chapter!
> 
> also... they go to the deep web in this one but to more lighthearted and fun websites! most of the websites on the deep web are not like the ones in this fic, so i would not reccomend going there!

For the rest of that night, Ouma and Amami climbed up to the roof of Ouma's house, staring at the stars and eating pizza, with their hair smelling like saltwater and soda. Ouma's starfish was safely tucked away in a makeshift Tupperware tank, filled to the brim with saltwater and some pieces of pizza thrown in there. What do starfish eat? Ouma and Amami had no clue, and they were too lazy to get their phones to look it up.

Amami had come to terms with how he felt during the night. Amami is chill. He's always been chill. He's like the ice caps of chill. So when he realizes that he likes Ouma, he doesn't dwell on it for too long. He moves on, because he's got more important things to worry about then a crush. It might not even be anything substantial! It'll probably pass, like a kidney stone. Maybe not as painful as a kidney stone, but it's gonna pass.

When Ouma proposed to him what he wants to do the next day, Amami started to doubt if he really had a crush on this boy.

"You wanna... go on the deep web?" Amami and Ouma are playing Mario Kart on Ouma's old Wii system; Ouma is in 1st and Amami is in 2nd. Ouma threw a green shell back at Amami, but he managed to evade it.

"Mhm!" Ouma crossed the finish line, smirking at Amami, who was now in 5th because he fell off the map. Amami didn't understand how he came in 5th; his plan was foolproof.

"Isn't that really dangerous? Can't you get killed?"

"You can get killed doing everything, though! I had a friend who got killed because he had a terrible sense of fashion."

"That's not true."

"You're right. It's not. Could happen though! You might be even be next, if you keep wearing that horrendous sweater!"

Said sweater was covered in little avocados, a present from Angie, and Amami saw nothing wrong with the attire. It matched his hair too! Ouma wears three different shades of white clothes though, so it's not like he'd know anything about matching.

"Anyways, when are we doing this thing?" Ouma hopped up from the couch they had both been sitting on, grabbed his laptop from the kitchen table, and turned it on. "Now! I've already covered up my camera and turned off my microphone," Ouma said, sitting down on the floor and placing the laptop in front of him. He patted the space next to himself, gesturing for Amami to sit next to him. Amami slumped down off the couch and onto the carpet, watching Ouma open up a browser.

"Why do you need to take all these precautions? You're just going on websites," Amami questioned, watching a little circle spin round and round as the browser loaded.

"Hackers. And viruses. And also cops."

"Why are there cops?"

"Good question. I wondered the same."

"Ouma..."

"Oh, fine. I didn't want to worry my beloved Amami-chan." Amami _wheezed_ (involuntarily), because _what the actual fuck_ , but Ouma ignored it and kept talking. "What we're doing can _seem_ illegal, Amami-chan. As long as we don't buy any drugs, prostitutes, or hitmen, we'll be in the clear."

"Okay, I trust you," Amami mumbled. Ouma giggled. When the browser finally loaded, Ouma looked at a word document which contained multiple website URLs in another window, and then typed one into the search bar.

Ominous music began pouring out from the laptop's speakers, and an eerie image of trees appeared on the screen. A sentence began slowly emerging and growing larger from the center of the screen. It said, "Joy of Satan." Yippee.

"Yuck... Was this made on PowerPoint?" Ouma snarked. Multiple paragraphs began popping up under the large sentence, which had now stopped growing and sat ominously in the center of the page.

"Ah, that gave me chills," Amami whispered. Ouma kept scrolling down the site, which only contained paragraphs talking about just how dandy Satan was, all in terrible font color choices.

"That's the creepiest site we'll probably go to," Ouma whispered back, closing out of it and typing in a new URL.

"Okay. Hey, why are we whispering?"

"So the Russian hackers don't force you to get all nakey on camera," Ouma replied. Amami shuddered.

"There are creepier sites out there than what we'll be going to, but I'd rather not have you see those," Ouma said, patting Amami's hair and changing his position so he was laying down on the ground on his stomach. He pushed the laptop closer towards Amami so he could see it better.

Amami changed his position so that he was lying down on his stomach too. "What's out there? I'm curious now."

"You sure you wanna know?"

"Yes," Amami lowered his eyebrows in concentration, "I mean, there could be so many crazy things out there... Torture, cannibalism, other gross nonsense... People can be so messed up."

"Uh, all of the above, plus a bunch of other nasty icky stuff! You weirdo!" Ouma paused for a moment, and Amami looked over and met eyes with him.

"You say some weird stuff sometimes, you narc!" Ouma flicked Amami's forehead, causing the other boy to blink and jump a bit. Amami smiled apologetically, rubbing his forehead. "Sorry."

Ouma mumbled out a "whatever" and brought his attention back to the website at hand.

"Cat facts?" Amami quizzically looked at the ethereal picture of a cat on Ouma's screen.

"The deep web isn't all bad stuff, my good sir." He began reading the facts as Amami stood up to get some soda from the fridge.

"'A cat called Dusty has the known record for the most kittens. She had more than 420 kittens in her lifetime.' She doesn't sound that dusty to me, sheesh." Ouma remarked. Amami promptly spit his soda out of his mouth and across the room, creating a purple stain on the carpet. Ouma wiped a few drops off his face and then said, "Aw, fuck. I can't believe you've done this."

Amami apologized, turning on the sink and dipping a towel under the faucet. He cleaned the stain as Ouma read him more facts.

"Number 228 out of... uh... 2-1-2-1-7-0 cat facts! Sorry, I don't like big numbers. 'A cat's nose has a unique pattern on it, akin to a human fingerprint.' Number 29: 'A group of adult cats is called a clowder.' Number 78: 'Cat only meow at people, not other cats.' You want me to keep reading?" Amami shook his head, eventually giving up on the stain (Why did he just start cleaning a stain in Ouma's house? Because he knew Ouma would never get around to doing it himself.) and sitting back down with Ouma, who took the bottle of soda from him and chugged the whole thing.

" _Ha, indirect kiss,_ " Ouma teased. Amami smacked him on the side of his head, making Ouma let out a short cry.

"Don't say stupid stuff," Amami said, blushing. (He was trying his best to pretend like he wasn't, though. Because he's chill, and chill guys don't blush!)

"Anyways, where to next? Oh wait! I got it!" Ouma was typing in a new URL, one significantly shorter than the others. "So, what kind of Disney fanfiction do you want?" Ouma asked.

"Fanfiction!?"

"Oh, this one's 18 and up." Ouma said, clicking on it.

The page began to fill up with paragraphs upon paragraphs. "What exactly is—"

"Mufasa leaned down, licking at Scar's—"

"Oh my god, Ouma, what the— _what the fuck, dude_?"

"Should I keep reading?" Ouma mischievously asked, rubbing his hands together. Amami quickly shook his head, closing out of the page. Ouma pouted out, "It wasn't even that bad!"

"It was Lion King porn!"

"Fair point, but still! We're going on a deep web adventure! We're _obviously_ gonna see some weird stuff, so might as well get used to it now!" Ouma went back to his word document and copied in a new URL.

"This one's creepy, just a warning. Want me to hold your hand, sweetheart?" Ouma said, holding out his hand and making kissy noises.

"I think I'll pass on that," Amami replied, snickering. ~~Maybe some other time, though.~~

When the website loaded, a creepy picture of a doll popped up and Ouma immediately jumped, but Amami didn't show any signs of being startled.

"Still want me to hold your hand? I think you do." Ouma reached for Amami's hand that was under his chin, and interlaced their fingers together. Creepy music began to play as Ouma scrolled further into the website with his free hand, which also made Ouma jump.

"Ouma, are you scared?"

"Not at all!" Strobe lights took over the screen, and Ouma was startled once more.

"I think you are."

"I just said I'm not! Sheesh!"

Amami laughed, absentmindedly squeezing harder on their fingers. He didn't think much of it.

It took five minutes for Ouma to leave the website. Ouma kept insisting that he wasn't scared, because supreme leaders don't ever get scared. The site was filled with creepy videos with dolls, all of which were very poorly edited, but scary enough to make Ouma loose his cool for a few milliseconds. Ouma eventually left the site because he thought it might be downloading viruses onto his laptop. He also mentioned how it might be best to _never go to that site ever again_ , but for Amami's sake, because he was "obviously scared."

They messed around with a few other sites that weren't as entertaining, such as a site where there are only avocados for sale, which made Amami giggle because isn't the deep web meant for illegal things like drugs? If all drugs were shaped like avocados, Amami would be in rehab.

"The deep web has anything and everything!" Ouma boasted.

"Does that mean I can do my Christmas shopping on it?" Amami asked.

"If you want to give your loved ones illegal and overpriced drugs, then absolutely!"

They moved onto one final site, a site Ouma had been saving for the very end.

"Cute Boy site..." Amami read the title of it. The website looked like it was created in Microsoft Paint, with a black background and neon green and pink text. Ouma cleared his throat and then, in a high, squeaky, teenage-girl-like voice, read off, "Hi! Welcome to Cute Boy site. This is a place for girls! But if boys want to see pictures of boys so..." Ouma turned and looked at Amami, winking and smiling, "I don't mind... smiley face." Amami snorted, reading off the next part of the sight in a high and squeaky voice just a little bit lower than Ouma's. "I hope your eyes going to have a great time!" Amami read.

"Oh my gosh, this website is from 1998," Ouma pointed out. Amami chuckled, urging him to scroll down further.

The first entry was for Leonardo DiCaprio, and his occupation was listed as "Actor" and "Teen Heartthrob". There was only one other entry besides that, and it was for Devon Sawa. Ouma made a joke about "sweet and sawa sauce", earning him another smack upside the head from Amami.

"I'm very upset I'm not on this website," Ouma said, "I think I deserve to be on the Cute Boy site of 1998." Amami laughed, watching a gif of an exploding firework play on a loop. This website really did have garbage decoration.

"Amami, would you put me on your Cute Boy site?" Ouma suddenly asked as Amami was sitting up from the floor.

Amami cocked his head in confusion. "I don't have one."

"Hypothetically. If you did." Ouma moved to sit up too, crossing his legs.

"...Are you just trying to get me to admit that you're cute?"

" _Admit!?_ So you _do_ think I'm cute!" Ouma leaned closer towards Amami, and _whoa, hey, they were still holding hands? How'd that happen?_

"I never said—" Amami leaned back a bit, eyes darting between their intertwined hands and Ouma's eyes.

"But you _implied_ —"

Amami sighed, getting Ouma's attention. Calling Ouma cute couldn't possibly cause discomfort in their friendship. Besides, Ouma probably knew he was going to say yes. There was nothing to lose. "Fine, fine. You're cute and I would put you on my Cute Boy site. Happy now?"

"Oh, silly Amami-chan! I _knew_ you thought I was cute! I just wanted to hear you say it!" Ouma giggled, flicking Amami in the forehead. "You must be hollow from the neck up if you didn't expect me to trick you like that!" Amami sighed, a of a smile creeping onto his lips.

"But you'd put me on your cute boy site, wouldn't you? Hypothetically. If you had one," Amami said.

"Nope!" Ouma replied, lacing his fingers together behind his head. Amami opened his mouth to say something in response, but Ouma beat him to it. "I could be lying though!" Ouma snickered. "Guess there's only one way to find out..."

Ouma left the room and Amami quickly followed behind, stepping outside with Ouma into his garage. Ouma dug through some boxes and pulled out two large, neon blue and orange water guns, already filled in advance.

"You have ten minutes to hide. Whoever gets hit first loses," Ouma explained, opening the garage doors by typing in a code.

"Those rules seem unfa—"

"If you win, Amami-chan, I'll tell you if I'd put you on my Cute Boy site."

"...Okay," Amami complied.

"Don't get mad at me if you start crying, Amami-chan!" Ouma pouted his lips and pretended to dramatically wipe fake tears. Amami laughed, lightly pulling the trigger on his water gun and seeing how far it could go.

"...Your ten minutes started a while ago... Are you gonna go?" Ouma asked.

"Oh. Oh yeah. Sorry. I'm definitely going to win," Amami shouted back at Ouma as he ran towards the woods straight ahead. Ouma laughed and waved at Amami's receding figure.

"I'll pretend like that intimidated me, Amami-chan!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all of the sites mentioned are real sites on the deep web (some of the more mild ones, haha) EXCEPT for the cute boy site, which is just on the regular web at: http://geocities.contemporary-home-computing.org/www.geocities.com/Hollywood/Theater/1048/


	4. stupid is fun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To cool off after their heated water gun fight, Amami and Ouma go somewhere nice and cold! Maybe it’ll help lessen the warmth they feel when they see each other...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey so apparently sherbet is also sorbet??? today has been a strange day

Amami was running through the woods, Super Soaker in hand. There was something stupid about what they were doing, but it brought back a sense of childish innocence, so Amami went along with their little game. 

Amami never really got the chance to do a lot of things like this growing up. He spent most of his time doing stereotypical girl things with his sisters, like braiding their hair and going shopping. He had no problem with that—he cherished all of his siblings and liked spending time with them—but there are just things that boys do with boys and girls do with girls.

Because of his sisters, he never got _enough_ excitement, which is exactly why this is a big deal to him. This friendship he has with Ouma is new and exciting and he has yet to grow tired of it. He felt free with Ouma, because they could do virtually anything they wanted and Ouma could always lie his way out of it. 

He laid down on the ground behind a fallen ash tree, waiting for Ouma to appear. Ouma was good at these kinds of things. Last summer Ouma had decided it would be a great idea to cool down with a water balloon fight, which ended in both of them getting concussions from ice-filled balloons. They both thought the ice would melt. It did not.

Amami knew Ouma would try and climb up a tree to get a better aim at him, which is why he was in an area basically cleared of trees and excess foliage. It was open and a terrible place to hide in, which is exactly why Ouma wouldn't think about checking out this area. 

The two boys know each others tactics by now; Amami plays defense and Ouma plays offense. 

Amami heard the faintest rustling nearby, and decided he should probably move positions. Sure, it could've just been a squirrel or the wind, but he wasn't taking any chances. He would have to move around often. Amami stood up from where he had been hiding and immediately began walking further into the woods. He felt incredibly _stupid_ already, because he was holding this big water gun with water _far too cold for this weather_ inside of it, taking this little game far too seriously. 

That was the day Amami learned that it's really a lot of fun to be stupid.

Ouma looked even more stupid than Amami, but he played to win. He was creeping through the woods, carefully thinking about where his next step would be in order to make the least amount of noise possible. His clothes and hair made him stand out starkly in the woods, but he was at an advantage with his height. 

Amami was probably near the back of the woods, surveying every area to make sure Ouma wasn't nearby. To be able to win, Ouma would have to sneak up on Amami from behind. Noting this, he changed his path to go from the center of the woods to the leftmost edge, and then work his way back. 

Of course Amami was just standing in the middle of the woods, back turned to Ouma. Of course he was looking everywhere but behind him.

What a stupid decision on his part.

(But isn't being stupid fun?)

Ouma immediately lunged towards him, foot snapping a branch in half, emitting a crack loud enough to alert Amami. Amami turned his head and locked eyes with Ouma. 

Ouma was fast, but Amami was faster.

With one sweep of his hand, Amami had Ouma pinned to the ground beneath him, airy smile plastered on his face. 

Ouma laughed, shutting his eyes so tightly crinkles and creases formed along the corners. "Haha, _you got me_!" He exclaimed. Amami was breathing heavily, (no, he wasn't breathing that way because of how Ouma looked right now, _no_ ) but he still made an effort to reach for his water gun, wherever it was. 

Ouma opened his eyes to gaze at Amami above him, and Amami's hand paused above the ground mid-search. 

Ouma's eyes are weird. They're like a wisteria purple, and maybe it's just some strange form of blue, but they look so purple. His eyes have little flecks of brightness in them, like constellations. With eyes like stars and a smile like the sun, Amami wonders why everything about Ouma just has to be so bright. Amami's own eyes widen as Ouma shoots him a shy smile, and Amami realizes:

This boy is one of the most beautiful people he has ever seen.

Ouma has greasy hair and his voice is always so loud, but he's still beautiful and Amami is _very gay at this moment._

Amami doesn't realize Ouma saw him staring (hard to miss it, though) until he breaks out into laughter. 

"You're so stupid, oh my God! Look at you—just—"

Amami immediately stands up in shock, and that's when he feels how damp his shirt and pants are.

The whole time Amami was gawking at Ouma, the latter was dumping water on him. 

"Oh, haha! I didn't notice!" Amami explained, feeling water drip off the ends of his hair and onto his shoulders. Ouma grinned at him from on the ground, his and Amami's water gun in both his hands, completely empty.

"I win! Now you'll never find out if I think you're cute!" Ouma bragged. 

Amami sighed, but he wasn't too upset. It was a short-lived battle, but still fun. 

But, fuck dude, he _really wanted to know._ Maybe Ouma didn't think he was that attractive, and just didn't want to hurt his feelings. Now that Amami thinks about it, was there really much chance of him winning anyways? 

Oh well.

Ouma knew Amami had a crush on him; he's not an idiot. What Ouma felt for Amami was certainly more than friendship, but it was hard to tell if those were feelings or not. All Ouma knew was that he cared about Amami a little more than he cared about everyone else, but he'd never tell him that because communication simply just isn't something Ouma does. It's not hard for him, but it erases all the mystery. 

Amami is a smart kid. If he really wants to know how Ouma feels, he can figure it out for himself. It's more fun that way. 

In regards to if Ouma thinks Amami is cute, he doesn't have an answer for that. Amami was very attractive, and currently rocking the model status, but there's a difference between gorgeous and cute. Certain things about Amami are cute, like the little splash of freckles he gets across his cheekbones in the summer, but certain things were not, like how he preferred to wear baggy clothes that didn't suit his lithe body whatsoever. He had this one pair of pants that just looked like they were made out of grocery bags. Maybe if Ouma searched around for it more, he'd find an answer. He's a busy guy, though, so that won't happen anytime soon.

Amami twisted his hands in the bottom of his shirt, wringing out the insane amount of water that was absorbed into the fabric. How did he not feel that? Did his whole entire body go numb? All his nerves must've fried over.

"Oh, look at that, the sun's setting! I didn't think it was this late!" Ouma exclaimed, head directed towards the sky as he stood up from the ground, putting both the water guns in one hand. The cloudless sky was painted in shades of orange and yellow, and reminded Amami of a fire. A hot fire was just what he needed right now; all the water covering him was _freezing_. 

"Let's go inside! You can towel off!" Ouma suggested.

Amami smiled, grateful. Ouma was cute.

Ouma grinned back, giggling a little and lightly bopping Amami on the head with his hand. Amami was gorgeous.

\---

"Hey Amami, why don't you like cars?" They're sitting outside when Ouma pops the question. Amami frowned a bit and lowered the Popsicle he was eating, causing a drop of it to run over his fingers. His hair was still a little damp from earlier, and a towel was wrapped around his shoulders. His clothes were still drying off, so Ouma had lent him an oversized jumper and a pair of jeans to wear until they were done. The jeans were way too short, but Amami couldn't complain.

"It's not that I don't like them... I guess. They're just weird to me. They're all tight and compacted, and the air inside always gets so stuffy."

Ouma replied, with a mouth full of grape Popsicle, "But you can roll the windows down! Or use AC!"

"...Ouma, what are you saying here? Do you want me to drive you somewhere?" Amami narrowed his eyes at Ouma, guessing where this conversation was headed. "You got your license?" Ouma asked, doing that... that _thing_ where he clenches his hands into little balls and his eyes sparkle. Amami felt his face get _way too hot_ at that, and the melted Popsicle running down his arm was now a blessing.

"Uhhh..." What were they talking about again? Amami can't remember anything except for lavender eyes and an excited smile. It takes him a while to get back on track again. "Oh, I've had my license. I prefer not to use it. Besides, I don't even have a car." 

"Use mine! I have a car! I don't have my license but I have a car!" Ouma's eyes were still bright and youthful, and Amami had to turn away, directing his gaze back to his sleeve which was now dyed purple. Ouma didn't seem to mind that his shirt was stained; one more for the collection.

"Yeah," Amami said, having no clue what he was agreeing to, but he assumed he didn't have much of a choice anyways. 

The bright smile Amami got from Ouma for agreeing was so worth it, though. It was almost _too_ bright; he wouldn't be surprised if he went blind right then and there. "Awesome! Let's go somewhere right now!" Ouma stood up from his seat on the porch steps and walked over to the fence, unlocking it and stepping through to the front yard. Amami followed behind him, disposing of the Popsicle stick in his hand in a garbage can near Ouma's mailbox. 

Ouma was across the street, inside an old, beat-up car, pulling at things under the steering wheel, humming a song about _this wire here_ and _that one over there_. 

"Ouma, what—"

"Shush!" Ouma interrupted as the car roared to life. He revved the engine a few times, kinda like how a race car driver would do it. He slammed his fist on the side of the steering wheel, and Amami heard something pop out of place and fall to Ouma's feet. Ouma got out of the car, rubbing his hands together and looking very proud of himself. "Done!" He sang. 

Amami opened his mouth to speak, but Ouma interrupted him too quickly. "I lost my keys," he explained. 

Amami couldn't help but wonder if Ouma ever had any keys to begin with?

"And this is your car?" Amami questioned Ouma as he walked around to the passenger seat of the car and slinked in. 

"Don't doubt me, Amami-chan! I've got my paperwork right here!" Ouma explained, opening the glovebox in front of him and pulling out a packet. "It even has my name on it!" He pointed at a sloppy signature on the first page of the packet. It looked official. Amami sighed, eventually moving to sit in the drivers seat and trust that Ouma knew what he was doing. 

Ouma gave him another jovial smile, where his lips pulled back and his one dimple on his left cheek became more accented. He really had to stop doing that; Amami's heart was palpitating. 

Ouma fished around in the storage compartment next to him for an auxiliary cord, before plugging it into his phone and searching through his music library with a mischievous smile on his face. He selected a song and it immediately blared through the speakers. 

"SomeBODY ONCE TOLD ME THE WORLD WAS GONNA ROLL ME—"

"Drive, motherfucker!" Ouma demanded, laughing and pointing a finger gun towards Amami. 

Amami couldn't help but laugh too, closing his car door and stepping on the gas. He listened to Ouma sing along to a series of strange English songs that he didn't recognize (in between giving Amami directions) for fifteen minutes before they arrived at their destination: a homey ice cream joint with outdoor seating and a fading neon sign. 

Amami looked at Ouma questioningly, because did Ouma really just want to go out on a late night ice cream run? Ouma replied, "Just follow after me, your noble leader!" Ouma got out of the car and Amami followed suit.

The ice cream shop was a lot larger than it looked from outside. There were multiple booths on the left side of the shop, and on the right side there was a large counter to order at, with a chalkboard menu behind it. Large windows placed around the front side of the shop brought in the light from the outside. 

"I'd recommend cookies and cream, but it really won't matter in the end," Ouma said, making his way up to the counter and perusing the menu. Amami did end up ordering cookies and cream, while Ouma got some sorbet concoction that took ten minutes to make. 

Amami had finished his small cup of ice cream by then, and he was waiting for Ouma at a booth tucked away in a corner of the restaurant. 

Ouma took his sweet time finishing his ice cream, and any conversation they had was halted with Ouma placing a finger to his own lips, secretly smirking. Amami immediately was concerned; what did Ouma have planned? He observed the way Ouma ducked his head down close to the table, and the way he sat completely still.

He was hiding from someone. 

Suddenly, the lights slowly turned off one by one, and a door could be heard slamming somewhere. Ouma looked back up at him with a tight-lipped smile on his face, threatening to burst open at the seams and into laughter.

"We're spending the night here," Ouma whispered, still trying to keep quiet.

Amami was _appalled_ ; wasn't this highly illegal? 

Wasn't almost everything they had been doing illegal, though? Ouma lifted his head up and looked around the shop, just to make sure there was no one there. He looked back at Amami and angled his head towards a door in the back, as if to say, _let's check it out._

Quietly, the two of them kept low and opened the back door with caution. It lead to a small storage room filled with boxes, and at the end of that was a metal door. Ouma pressed his hand to the metal and pulled back quickly. 

It was a freezer. _An ice cream freezer._

Ouma bounced on the balls of his feet with joy. They had all the possible junk food options right at the tip of their fingers, all to no cost! 

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Amami asked, raising his eyebrows. Ouma squinted at Amami and huffed out an angry breath.

"Of _course_ this is a good idea! Do you not _trust me?_ " A quiet voice in the back of Ouma's mind told him not to play with Amami's feelings, but—

" _Of course I do,_ " Amami replied, pressing a hand to his heart and meeting Ouma's gaze. 

"Then grab a spoon and let's go in!" Ouma chuckled.

Inside the ice cream freezer were multiple tubs of ice creams of all flavors. Ouma immediately made a beeline for a strawberry one, whipping out a large ice cream scoop and popping the lid off the tub. He dug into the pink mass and got a decently large spoonful. 

"Just pick any one you want! They're all good!" Ouma said to Amami, who was standing in the middle of the room, dumbfounded. 

This was _so illegal_ and _so stupid._

(read: but being stupid is fun.)

Which is why Amami found himself digging into a cotton candy tub of ice cream, making a pleased noise when the dessert touched his tongue. 

_This was the best decision of his life._

Amami sat down on the ground, pulling a tub of ice cream closer to him. He was starting to get a little chilly, but he supposed he could sit it out. If the ice cream melted, the employees at the shop would immediately become concerned. Ouma had left the room in a search for some candy to put on top of his ice cream scoops, and a cone to put them in. Amami was digging his spoon into a mint chocolate chip tub when Ouma came back, with nothing but a bottle of chocolate syrup and an evil smile. He said, "Dude, I dare you to chug this _whole bottle._ " Ouma tossed the bottle towards Amami, who clumsily caught it in his hands, dropping the scoop he was holding into the tub.

"Ouma, I don't think—"

"Aw come on!"

"I'll end up throwing it all up later."

"You'll be fine," a pause, and then, " _Don't you trust me?_ "

"I—I _don't._ "

Ouma gaped at Amami incredulously. " _What do you mean?_ " Ouma asked him slowly. Amami swallowed a bubble forming in his throat. 

"You're too manipulative," he said. 

The air in the freezer was cold, but Ouma's blood was _boiling._

Ouma's eyes started to well up with tears. "Manipulative? Amami-chan, why would you think—"

"You're doing it right now." Ouma paled, but Amami continued, "Those are just crocodile tears. I'm not an idiot, Ouma."

Ouma was quiet. The room was silent except for the buzz of the fridge, which was _far too loud_ in Amami's opinion. He gulped again.

" _Why would you think that?_ " Ouma asked again, completely crestfallen. Amami stood up, slowly walking closer to Ouma.

The air around them was glass waiting to be shattered. They needed to talk about this sometime or other, Amami supposed.

"Why is it that you always need to pressure people into doing things for you? You take advantage of all your friends," Amami crossed his arms and stared down at Ouma. It wasn't like he hadn't notice Ouma's manipulative tendencies before, but he simply chose to ignore them because they turned out to be fun in the end. This, chugging a bottle of chocolate syrup, could only result in Amami spewing his guts onto the freezer floor, which Ouma would only make fun of him for.

"Liar," Ouma stated, pressing a finger to Amami's chest. Amami grabbed Ouma's hand and pulled it off him. "If _anyone_ is a liar, it's you. Just tell me why you do it," With an afterthought, he added on, " _Please._ "

Ouma was visibly nervous. He hadn't wanted to have this conversation here; he hadn't wanted to have this conversation _ever_.

"I...I don't know," Ouma blanked.

"Give me the _real_ answer." Amami seemed so intimidating right there.

Ouma smirked; Amami really was a good interrogator. His smile vanished when Amami cleared his throat. "It just came naturally to me," Ouma explained, pouring out his thoughts, "It was just an easy way to get stuff. It worked on you so many times."

"But just, _why_? It's such a mean thing to do," Amami asked.

"It's just the easiest way to get what I want," Ouma's voice was calmer, "You understand, right? If there was an easy way to get anything, you'd do it too, right?"

Amami thought, _I really don't think I'll ever be able to understand you._

Amami blinked. "Can't you just be happy with what you have? If someone says no, just drop it." Amami took a few steps closer to Ouma, placing both of his hands on the smaller boy's shoulders. 

"You need to respect people more," Amami frowned. 

Ouma smiled up at Amami, but his words said something else entirely. "Believe me when I say _I'm trying._ "

Amami didn't fully trust Ouma, but he believed him. He hoped one day he'd be able to trust him. Amami felt a smile make it's way onto his face as well. 

"I'll hold you to that," Amami replied, turning away from Ouma and back to the tub of ice cream he had left on the ground. 

"I want to be nicer to you, but..." Amami turned towards Ouma, who was facing an open tub of gelato on a shelf close to the door. Ouma spun around to face Amami, holding an ice cream scoop in his right hand.

"—I also want to flick this spoonful of ice cream at your silly face."

Amami chuckled before saying, "Can't you do both?" His cheeks hurt from smiling so much that day. 

Ouma moved across the room in a long stride, pushing the trigger down on the scoop and smacking a glob of caramel gelato on Amami's head. He smirked before walking back to the shelf and putting the lid back on the gelato tub. Amami laughed, wiping the mess off of him before digging his scoop into a tub of green ice cream.

He snuck up behind Ouma and plopped the scoop on his shoulder, earning a gasp from the boy. Ouma turned around to face him, before sniffing the air and asking, "Was that _mint?_ " Amami nodded his head and Ouma gasped again. 

"You've got some nerve; mint is the work of the devil and should _never_ touch me."

Ouma popped open another container and dug his hand into the raspberry sorbet lying inside, running it all down Amami's face. Amami laughed, throwing his head back. The atmosphere around them had become much more welcoming and friendly than before. 

They spent the next fifteen minutes destroying each other's hair and clothes with various kinds of ice cream. Ouma grimaced at the amount of mint that was caked to his pants. Amami didn't look any better, with his hair being a complete mess and his shoes being covered in vanilla ice cream. 

Amami still felt a tiny doubt making itself apparent in the back of his mind. It felt awkward to bring it up now, but he had to do it. "So you promise you won't force me to do anything I don't want, right? And also, no more crocodile tears," Amami said. 

"But I love my crocodile tears!" Ouma pleaded, his eyes becoming shinier with the threat of oncoming tears.

"Do you _promise?_ " Amami repeated. Ouma rubbed a hand at his eyes, huffing out a, "Fine, I promise."

"Pinky promise?" Amami tried to keep cool while asking that, because that's usually something he says to his sisters. His _little_ sisters who barely know how to spell.

"Now you're asking for too much," Ouma laughed, but still crossed the room to wrap his mint-covered pinky with Amami's.

For the next hour or two, the two of them tried every flavor of ice cream, sorbet, and gelato possible. They were _freezing_ , but both of them were having far too much fun to even step outside and warm down for even a second. They also tried mixing different flavors together in little serving cups. Ouma swirled _every single flavor_ together (except anything minty) and tried it, which was surprisingly good. They also ate sprinkles right out of the shakers, and basically wreaked havoc on anything that had any sugar in it. At around two A.M. they both decided to make the drive back to Ouma's place. Amami was concerned that when they left it would trigger an alarm, but Ouma dissolved his worries by saying that this place was terribly unprotected. Though the cash register was basically unbreakable, (Amami wondered how Ouma knew that) nothing else in the shop was secured. They had no security cameras or protection system of any sort. To ease Amami's worries, they escaped through a window that was left open, which was just another fact to show this place had no security. 

The two of them walked back to Ouma's car, but before they could get on the road again Ouma had to jumpstart it once more. It took a few minutes before they were able to start their drive back to Ouma's house, and it ended up being another car ride filled with Ouma screaming along to weird songs. Amami glanced over fondly at the boy with rocky road rubbed in his hair every few minutes. Amami enjoyed himself a lot more than he thought he would, and while they didn't spend the night because they were too tired from the days antics, Amami would still be up for doing this again.

"By the way, this car isn't mine," Ouma suddenly said, lowering the volume of the song he was singing along to.

"I assumed so," Amami replied, "but then... what's that packet you have in the glovebox?"

"Something I typed up. The person who owns this car doesn't even know it's there!" Amami parked the car back in the spot he found it in, and the two of them both went back inside, trying their best not to collapse on the floor from exhaustion.

They fell asleep on the couch in Ouma's living room, not even bothering to wash the ice cream off their skin or change clothes. That was work for later.


	5. boys will be boys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ouma and Amami head to the mall for a fun day of ruining people’s lives! In the process, the only people they end up hurting may be themselves...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope this isn't ooc !!
> 
> and sorry i haven't posted in years lmao

"You gotta hold the button down."

"Which button?"

"The, uh, right one."

"On the arrow pad?"

"No, the 'A' button. On the right."

"...It didn't work."

"That's cause you didn't time it right! Let me show you."

Amami was up in Ouma's room with the boy, currently trying to figure out how to use a game console he wasn't familiar with. The only console he had at home was a Wii, and the only game he had for it was Wii Sports. He stopped using it when one of his sisters accidentally threw the remote into his TV. One day, he'd bring the Wii back to his dorm room and challenge Hoshi to a one-on-one tennis match, because he desperately wanted to know if Hoshi was as good at video game tennis as he was at real tennis.

Amami was now playing some new adventure game, which he would probably be good at if he knew the controls. Ouma was signing Saihara up for random mailing lists online from his phone, while also trying to give Amami instructions. He sincerely hopes Saihara likes getting newsletters from Alcoholics Anonymous.

"This button to attack, right?" Amami asked, hitting the button before Ouma could fully respond.

"No— _oh my god_ , you just threw your sword into the ocean," Ouma scrunched his nose in disgust and glared at Amami, who frowned. He didn't mean to do that! He's just inexperienced with all these new buttons. "I can get it back, right? If I turn off the console, then won't—" 

Ouma interrupted Amami mid-sentence with, "But you'll lose some save data!" Amami just shrugged his shoulders and hit the black power-off button at the top of the screen, earning a wheeze from Ouma. They restarted the level again, and Amami sent a few arrows flying at the dungeon's boss. 

"Hey, Amami-chan, let's go out today! To the mall!" Ouma proposed, quickly but stealthily hitting a button on the back of Amami's controller that would help with his attack. Amami then smiled, proud that he had done such a solid attack; all on his own too! 

"Well we need money... right?" Amami replied, hoping Ouma wasn't planning on doing something illegal before it was even dinnertime. He was lucky they hadn't gotten arrested yet. Amami was slow reloading his next arrow in the video game, and the boss was able to take him out. Amami silently restarted the level. 

Ouma hummed, thinking of something to do. He eventually came up with a suggestion. "We can just run really fa—"

"Nope," Amami turned his offer down immediately, "no illegal things today." As an afterthought, Amami tacked on a, "Sorry." Ouma puffed his cheeks up, huffing out a, "Fine, I guess I'll find some cash around here." He jumped off of his bed to leave Amami to his own devices, and went to search out his wallet.

Last Christmas, Ouma had spent all his money on a cotton candy machine. It was so worth it, despite the two silver caps on his molars that he had to get due to cavities. Because of that, he didn't have any money left, so he found himself scrounging for any spare change. Once, in a moneyless state of exhaustion and desperation, he tried to pickpocket Angie, but she only carried around plastic coins that said things like "Great Job!" on them. Now Ouma is the proud owner of a jar of congratulatory coins. He likes to give them to people whenever they do something especially stupid. Amami had already gotten two that afternoon. Amami tries to get Ouma to give him the coins, just so he can give them back to Angie later.

In his wallet was a candy wrapper, a button, and a 1,000 yen bill that really looked like it had been photocopied. Good enough! Ouma turned off the game console and asked Amami to drive him down to the mall. 

Amami had brought over five days worth of clothes. He only planned to stay for that long because he also wanted to spend some time with his siblings for the rest of the break. He was surprised he wasn't getting bored of Ouma yet, but maybe that's because there was never a dull moment between the two. Sure, Amami got _tired_ of the boy and his antics, but he was never bored. He hoped today would be no exception to that. 

Amami made himself ready for the day while Ouma attempted to hijack the car again. No one even drives this car! It just sits there and collects snow and dust. Honestly, Ouma thinks he's doing the owners a favor by taking it out once in a while. It's kinda like walking a dog. 

The two of them got in the car, and Amami groaned at the uncomfortable seats and closed off space. He rolled the windows down and breathed in the warm air. He turned on the radio, afraid of what would happen if Ouma had the aux cord again, and started making his way to the mall.

"I only have 1,000 yen, so we can get like... maybe a pretzel," Ouma suddenly spoke up, a little irritated that he didn't get the aux cord. His music is great! Amami has no taste. 

"That's fine. We can just walk around and look at stuff." They didn't talk much after that, but Ouma hummed a song to himself and looked out the window at all the passing buildings. He wondered if the owners of that ice cream shop knew they stayed after hours. He can't remember if they cleaned up after themselves. Getting eight consecutive brain-freezes apparently take their toll on your memory pretty badly.

Amami looked at him in the center rearview mirror when they stopped at a red light. The sweater Ouma was wearing was too big for him, so his little hands were obscured by the soft yellow fabric. Today was a little too warm for a sweater, but Ouma didn't seem to mind.

"You're cute," Amami accidentally said. 

Maybe it wasn't accidental. That doesn't matter.

"Thanks, dad," Ouma nonchalantly replied, his eyes still looking out the window. Amami rolled his eyes, smiling back at Ouma. Ouma bit the side of his cheek and casted his eyes down, contemplating something. Amami was about to ask him what was wrong, but behind him a car honked it's horn, making Ouma and him jump. Amami started driving again, embarrassed he was sitting at a green light for who knows how long. Ouma snickered at his carelessness, thankfully not teasing him more on the matter. 

They got to the mall thirty minutes after they left the house, and it would've been a shorter time had Amami known the route to get there. Ouma didn't tell him about the shorter routes because it was nice looking out the window. 

Today was looking out to be a pretty good day. 

The two of them got out of the car and walked into the mall, taking in the scent of expensive lemonade and pretzels. People filled up all the booths and stores, and all around them they had conversation and lived their lives. 

Sure, the mall was busy today, but for some reason both of the boys could still spot Saihara shamelessly shopping in a store with little to no lighting and clothes in all black. He was holding about ten items, all of them jet-black, and Amami couldn't help but be curious as to why someone would buy multiple items all of the same color. Come to think of it, he had never really seen Saihara outside of school, so he never knew what the boy's sense of style was.

Ouma tapped Amami on the shoulder to get his attention. "Should we go up to him?" 

Amami shook his head and looked down at Ouma. "Let's just let him enjoy his day."

"I don't understand how he could enjoy anything without us," Ouma huffed out. Amami tugged on the shoulder of Ouma's sweater to make sure he didn't go off and antagonize Saihara. 

The mall was two stories tall, and the two of them started on the first floor. 

They wreaked havoc on every single store and every single poor retail employee working there that day.

Amami spent ten minutes in a tea shop with Ouma, just leeching off of the free samples. After that, they just window shopped, going in stores with nice clothes and going in stores with ugly ones. Ouma had found a particularly strange jacket, that displayed the words "Daddy" in blocky, white lettering.

"Amami-chan, get the one that just says 'Daddy's kitten' on it," Ouma demanded, showing Amami the jacket in his hands. "We'll be matching."

Amami choked, grabbing the jacket off the shelf.

"We're trying these on and taking a picture," Ouma stated. Amami didn't really mind; they're just jackets.

They both walked into a changing room together, which earned them some weird looks, but whatever! It's all in the sake of good fun! They tried to look as serious as possible, even though they were trying not to break out laughing. Color was high on Amami's cheeks.

There was a great juxtaposition between the two of them, as the jacket was too small for Amami, so it stretched around his muscles, but on Ouma is was too big and baggy. 

Once they were done with their _very professional_ photoshoot, they took off the jackets and left them in the changing room. They made it a point to take pictures with every item that was even a little questionable in a store.

"We're _terrible_ ," Amami chuckled out. Ouma laughed, shades of pink rising up to his face.

Amami didn't know how easy it was to ruin a store. He was kinda loving it. All the chaos that ensued was fun for him and Ouma. At first Amami was hesitant, because this could land them in some trouble, but it was his hopeless infatuation with Ouma that made him join in. He doesn't like to think he shows off in front of Ouma, but he definitely does agree to a lot of things he normally wouldn't. We all want things we can't have, he supposes. Ouma was just another one of those things. 

The two of them went to the food court and stomped on unopened ketchup packets, creating a mess of red all over the floor. They switched the price stickers on all the items. They went into a candy store and sneakily filled their pockets with chocolate malt balls and gummy sharks, walking out without paying. They went into a store where you could make your own stuffed animals, and Ouma got a stuffed bear that, when you squeezed its hand, made the most terrifying pterodactyl-like noise. They both knew someone would be mad later, but it's not fun to think about the consequences. It's more fun to live in the moment. 

Ouma's smile was high on his face as he grabbed a shopping cart in the corner of a large department store.

"Amami-chan. Push me." Ouma's hair was ruffled, and his cheeks hurt from smiling. Amami couldn't say no; not to that face. 

"Roger that." Ouma climbed in the cart and with a shove Amami sent him flying through the store, only to crash into an aisle shelf and tip the cart over. Ouma fell on his side with a laugh, while the shelf next to him tipped over. Which caused the next shelf to tip over. And the next. Ouma turned to Amami with a guilty smile on his face as all the shelves and their items crashed down onto the ground, creating a cacophony of loud noise. Something on one of those shelves was _definitely_ glass. 

"Bad idea?" Ouma asked. Amami frantically nodded his head in response. 

Ouma slid out of the cart and calmly walked out of the aisle, whistling a song and looking as natural as possible, slightly limping on the side he fell on. Amami stayed close behind him as they walked out of the store, holding in more laughs as someone on the public announcement system said, "Clean up on... what do you mean _three aisles?_ Clean up on aisles 12, 13, and 14."

Once they got out of the store, thankfully with no interrogation, Amami ran a hand through his hair. "Oh God, we've really done it now."

Ouma wrapped his arms around his stomach as he laughed, no noise coming out.

"That—That store had security cameras and they're just gonna s-see me _fall over_." Amami's lips quirked up a bit too, and soon he was laughing along with Ouma, struggling to keep standing as he saw a flock of store employees push the shelves back up. 

"They're going see us on the cameras and we're going to end up on the news," Amami chuckled out. He wasn't concerned about them; he knew they'd both end up alright. 

"All we have to do is walk away," Ouma explained, quickly walking away from the store. Amami could see a handful of employees all working together to push the shelves back up. "It's their fault for making the shelves so fragile!" Ouma reasoned, his eyes filled with mirth as he turned to look at his friend.

Amami went up the escalator to the second floor, while Ouma sprinted up the escalator that was going down, because he'd always wanted to do that. 

"Hey, _hey,_ I've got an idea," Ouma poked Amami in his side, eyes twinkling like stars. 

"What is it?" Amami questioned. Ouma pointed towards a store with bright fluorescent lighting and loud pop music emanating from within. Amami walked in with Ouma, curious as to why Ouma would want to go in a place like this. It was a jewelry store that usually catered to girls that were in elementary school, not two high school _fugitives_.

They've run from the law so many times now, it's only appropriate to refer to themselves as fugitives. 

Amami was distracted by a hair scrunchy he thought one of his sisters would like. Were those still in style? Amami really didn't know. 

"Excuse me," Ouma's voice was soft and sweet as he asked an employee for something, "is there _any chance_ I can get sixty-nine piercings on my nipples? Like, both nipples?" Amami turned his head to face a smug-looking Ouma, who was loudly bugging a poor cashier. 

_Oh no._

The employee openly gaped at Ouma, mumbling an, "I... We can't do—"

"Aw, but please! It'll be easy!" Ouma had attracted the attention of a lot of shoppers with his unorthodox request, and Amami was stuck between dragging Ouma out of the conversation and just watching. If he watched, then would Ouma actually walk out of this place with sixty-nine new piercings? That's terrifying.

"See, my friend over there," Ouma gestured towards Amami, who could only furrow his brows and shake his head, because _why was he being dragged into this_ , "has sixty-nine nipple piercings and I kinda thought we could be twinning. Amami-chan, can you take off your shirt for the nice lady?" Amami could only walk towards Ouma and wish to disappear. He felt eyes all over him, and the whole store seemed to go silent except for the radio music. 

Usually Amami is down for anything. Not this time. 

Amami sputtered out an, "I'm so sorry about him, he just wants to—"

"Amami-chan! Are you gonna take off your shirt or not?" 

Ouma knew he was upsetting Amami. He didn't feel bad though, because if Amami was gorgeous when he was happy, then what would he look like mad? Would his cheeks get red? Would his eyes become cold? Ouma wanted to see how long it would take before he lost his temper, just for fun. 

Amami shook his head and sighed, looking back to the confused employee and apologizing again. He snagged his fingers on the collar of Ouma's shirt and quickly tugged him out of the store, doing his best not to hurt Ouma too much. Ouma's hands tried to pry Amami's grip off his shirt, and he attempted to wiggle free, but Amami had the better hold on him.

When Amami finally let Ouma go, Ouma stuck out his bottom lip and pouted. They were outside the mall in the parking lot, and the sky was beginning to darken with the threatening onslaught on rain.

"It would've been funny!" Ouma explained, "You didn't even give me a chance." They didn't speak again until arriving at the car, which Ouma had to jumpstart once more. 

"It would've _if_ you hadn't accused me of having an absurd about of piercings on my nipples. It's getting late anyways. Let's just go home," Amami replied.

"Yes, but once you lifted up your shirt the cashier would see you didn't have any! It's an obvious plan but you still didn't get it!" Ouma looked down at the wires underneath the steering wheel with rapt attention.

"Maybe I don't want to lift up my shirt in a store filled with impressionable little girls? I'm almost certain that's illegal."

"You're _so_ boring, Amami-chan!" Amami didn't really know how to respond to that, so he chose not to. He just stared into Ouma's narrowed and accusatory eyes. Once upon a time, that shade of wisteria was so beautiful, but now it was filled with nothing but malice.

Was Ouma really going to get mad at him for _this?_

"Do we really have to talk about this here? Like, in a car?" Yet another reason why Amami doesn't like cars.

"I don't know if I wanna hang out with a boring guy like you," Ouma continued, playing with a strand of hair that fell over his eyes. 

The only way Amami could think of to retaliate was to say, "I'm not boring," but he didn't say that, because that wasn't him. He could be boring more often then not. He enjoyed the crosswords in the newspaper; he wasn't the most exciting guy on Earth.

They didn't speak after that. Ouma got the car running and both of them got in. Amami silently put the car in reverse and began the drive back to Ouma's house.

The car ride was just... awkward. It had barely even begun, too.

Why would Ouma suddenly just not want to hang out with him? Sure, maybe Amami shouldn't have dragged him out of the mall, but he knew Ouma needed to calm down as soon as possible, and that was the only way to do it. 

The truth is, Amami didn't want Ouma getting himself into too much trouble. He knew he would've had to step in at some point to prevent whatever Ouma had planned from escalating. He was doing something good, so he didn't feel bad about it. His heart was in the right place.

(That's what he tells himself, anyways.)

Ouma should've been able to recognize Amami was only trying to help. So why didn't he see that?

Maybe Ouma staged the whole thing. It's an elaborate scheme, but one he could definitely pull off. Maybe he did something dramatic, knew Amami would get upset with him for it, and then used it as an excuse for them not to talk anymore.

Amami isn't trying to sound cocky here, but why? There was really no visible reason for Ouma to do something like that. 

Unless Ouma realized Amami liked him and was so disgusted that he wanted to cut off their whole friendship. Amami hadn't exactly been subtle. His admiration for Ouma was starting overflow from inside him; it's not his fault he couldn't control it!

It didn't seem like something for Ouma to do, in all honesty. If Ouma did realize Amami's feelings, he probably would just continue living life as he always did. 

For some reason, on that day the world was against them as they were against each other. Drops of rain started to fall against the windshield of the car. Ouma broke the deafening silence by saying, "Pull over. No windshield wipers."

Amami steered the car onto the hard shoulder of the highway and parked it, slouching in his seat while running a hand down his face. 

Today was looking out to be a pretty sucky day, contrary to Amami's thoughts earlier. 

"I guess I'll go home after this. I can walk," Amami spoke up, awkwardly rubbing his shoes against one another. The hum of the car was the only noise for a while, as both of them sat silently for what felt like hours. 

"Yeah. You won't be missed," Ouma snickered and looked out the window again, cheek resting on his hand. 

"I'd like to believe you're lying." Disappointment was apparent in Amami's smooth and low voice. 

"Guess you'll never find out!" Ouma grinned. Making jokes and light of a situation is his way of getting out of problems, and it works every time. He was trying to laugh and smile, because he _knew_ those things were contagious. If he cracked enough jokes, eventually Amami would have to give up and Ouma would win. Then they'd go home and play video games and try and make food without setting the house on fire, just like they used to.

Ouma wasn't wild about all this new tension in their relationship. Some part of him understands, though. He wonders why something like this didn't happen sooner. He wonders why Amami stayed with him for so long. 

(He'd never say that out loud, though.)

"There's really no shame in apologizing, Ouma," Amami said, staring at the back of Ouma's head, hoping the boy would just turn around. A heavy frown adorned Amami's face. Ouma loudly laughed, granting Amami's wish and locking eyes with him, purple blending with green. 

"Who said I was going to apologize?" Ouma locked his fingers behind his head and relaxed against the seat a bit more, not breaking eye contact with Amami as a grin spread across his face. 

The awkward silence was back again. 

Guilt started to eat away at Amami, and he was realizing how hard it was to not just get this over with. He was never good at holding grudges. If he apologized first, he and Ouma wouldn't be sitting in this car as miserably. He could apologize to Ouma now, and then ask him why he did the things he did later, when he can be certain everything will turn out alright. The reason he doesn't do that is because it's what he's been doing for the past four years with Ouma, and it continues to get him nowhere. Resisting change is futile, so maybe it's time for a change.

Amami had always had strong intuition, and something in his gut just tells him that he needs to fix this _now_ or _never._

Amami thinks that he's going to make the right decision, and sometimes the right decision is the hardest one.

"I didn't know you were so _sensitive_ , Amami-chan," Ouma said. Amami flinched at the sweet venom lacing his voice. He sounded threatening. They continued their silent staring contest, and Amami felt like the purple hues of Ouma's eyes were an ocean and he was _drowning._ He's upset with Ouma right now, but that doesn't change how he feels about him. 

"I'm not being sensitive. What you did would embarrass anyone," Amami frowned.

"It wouldn't have embarrassed me!" 

"But _I'm_ not _you_ , Ouma."

Ten heartbeats passed. Fifteen. Twenty. 

"Why did you do that? Back there," Amami finally asked, seeing cars drive around them out of the corner of his eye. Amami was starting to get stressed.

"I _told_ you, I just wanted to have fun!" Ouma explained. Under his breath he mumbled, "Do you even know what that is?"

"I know what fun is." The rain got louder, hitting the top of the car and running down the sides and windows.

"Debatable." Amami could tell Ouma was trying to fix things without apologizing, again. His voice held a humorous lilt to it, and the corners of his lips curled up. 

"Be serious. You did it for attention, am I right?" Amami asked, internally smirking at the way Ouma's shoulders tensed up slightly. _I've got you now,_ Amami thought.

Amami isn't a fool. He notices how Ouma raises his voice whenever he's walking by a group of people that he doesn't like, almost as if to shout "Remember me? Look how happy I am right now! You wish you were me!" Amami also sees how Ouma moves his lithe hands throughout the air like a fish in the sea, making big gestures so everyone's attention is drawn to him.

Amami can't blame him for wanting attention, because that's not all Amami notices. Amami notices how, when they're both forcing their sleep deprived bodies to stay awake in the ungodly hours of the night, Ouma asks him a question about life with sad eyes, before chuckling and blowing it off as a joke. 

There are people who desperately want attention and people who desperately need it. Amami wonders where Ouma falls on that spectrum. 

Ouma's eyes slowly narrowed as he said, "Now why would I do that? I'm no attention whore." His hands itched to pop his knuckles—Amami could tell—but he had to restrain himself. Cracking his knuckles was a nervous tick of Ouma's, and while he was normally pretty good at hiding the way his fingers twitched, Amami was lucky enough to spot how Ouma moved his hand up slightly before concealing it behind his back.

"You're nervous," Amami stated. 

"But so are you," Ouma replied, smiling. Damn, he was good at getting into people's heads. 

They both could read each other like a book. (Amami was more of a simple pamphlet. Ouma was a goddamn _dictionary_.)

"Ouma, listen. I'll apologize to you once you tell me why you embarrassed me. I thought we promised you wouldn't force me to do weird stuff anymore." Amami didn't bother hiding the hurt in his voice. It would be so easy for Ouma to just lie to Amami, and the latter probably wouldn't even notice. There were so many possible things Ouma could say, and they'd all make sense, so why wasn't he just doing that? 

Ouma remained silent, turning his gaze back to the window speckled with raindrops. "If you wanna leave—I know you want to—I won't stop you," Ouma's face was blank, and Amami hoped it was just a mask.

"Are you being serious?" Amami asked.

"You told me to be serious, so yes."

A wave of silence and disbelief passed over Amami for a minute. He felt like his heart has been ripped out of his chest. 

"It's like you don't even care," Amami said. He opened the car door and stepped outside into the pouring rain, going on the sidewalk next to the road and walking in the direction his house should be in.

Sometimes Amami thinks about what decisions to make. He thinks with careful analysis and observation. Sometimes he doesn't. Sometimes he just does stuff because why not? This was an example of the latter. 

He felt _dramatic_ doing that, and it was kind of exhilarating, and that's when he realized: He really needs to fucking apologize.

Ouma had only done that stunt back there because he was running on adrenaline and craved more of it. Being dramatic and loud is _exhilarating._ Amami finally understood Ouma's reasoning behind everything he did. There was no underlying motive. There was no evil plan. Ouma just wanted to live a little.

Shit.

He literally just wanted to enjoy himself and Amami created unnecessary tension.

 _Shiiiiiit._

He felt bad for doubting Ouma's reasoning, and he has no clue why he even did that in the first place. Amami stopped walking, contemplating burying his pride and apologizing to Ouma. Amami heard a car door slam somewhere behind him, before a voice shouted out, "Fuck, I don't even know why I just got out of that car!" Ouma was a black silhouette against the beaming headlights of the car, one of them flickering on and off every few seconds from the age.

Amami turned around to face Ouma, who was standing in the rain and letting water soak his clothes. He seemed surprised, like he had just realized where he was. 

"I _lied_. I'm a _liar_. And you're _stupid_ ," Ouma began walking towards Amami, steps silent under the rain. His lips quivered as he struggled to either keep words in or pour them all out. You could never tell with Ouma.

"I'm sorry. You were just trying to have fun and I ruined it. I'm really a fun sponge, huh?" Amami apologized.

"Ye— _No,_ I—" Ouma stopped, closed his mouth and groaned. Amami cocked his head to the side in confusion. "You're making this hard for me," Ouma admitted.

"Making what hard for you?" 

"Words."

"Words?"

" _Words._ "

Amami furrowed his brows down in confusion. "Explain," Amami demanded. Amami pretended not to notice how Ouma spoke as quickly and with as little words as possible. Something he did when he was _hella uncomfortable_. Ouma grimaced, slowly beginning to crack under the pressure.

"I hate you. You're too tall. And you're like, _really creepy_. And your sense of style sucks. And you always forget everything, like once you forgot your birthday. And don't even get me started on your—"

"Ouma, do you even like me?" Amami asked. Ouma's cheeks pinked as he cracked his knuckles. 

"As a friend? No."

"So then...you don't care about me?" Amami asked. He's not gonna cry. _He's not._ Is he upset by the way his bipolar friend has been acting? Of course. And is he hurt because he adores his friend, but his friend feels nothing but hatred for him? You bet. But he's not going to cry over it. 

At home, he's basically the man of the house. He makes dinner for his sisters more often than not. He'd be a terrible role model if he came home whining about how his best friend ditched him. He needs to be strong.

"Say that again," Ouma demanded.

"What, you don't care about me?"

"I don't _care_ , Amami-chan? You _seriously_ think I don't care about you?! You're so—what the _fuck?!_ " Ouma's hands were clenched into fists by his sides and his face showing nothing but malcontent. 

He seemed sad, but also angry. Smangry.

Ouma stared daggers into Amami's eyes. "Are you _blind?_ I do so much stuff to show that I care! I give you test answers in Morse code because you always put off studying until the last minute! I let you sleepover at my house whenever your sisters torture you too much! I make sure to text you a million times every morning so you don't oversleep! I'm your alarm clock!" Ouma's voice got more hoarse as he kept shouting at the top of his lungs, lights from cars flickering past his face as he let rain flatten his hair and coat his skin. Ouma took a deep breath before continuing, "You're my _accomplice._ I wouldn't just let _anyone_ have that title!" Amami stood there, shellshocked. 

Ouma's purple eyes glistened and shone in the rain, a thin layer of water on them. The whites of Ouma's eyes were a dull red, and he looked absolutely crestfallen. Amami felt his heart drop to his feet, because _he did that._

Amami had seen Ouma genuinely cry one other time, but than was when he was trying to climb a tree and broke his leg in four places, which was understandable. He hadn't even cried that much; his eyes just got watery. Amami remembers saying, "Well that was _leg-treme._ " Ouma slapped him after that. He deserved it.

"You keep acting weird, and I hate it! One minute you're all happy, and the next you're yelling at me! You've been so uptight lately! You've," Ouma took a deep breath, closing his eyes and looking at the sidewalk beneath him, "changed, Amami-chan."

Ouma was a whimpering mess, hot tears streaming down his face as he choked out a sob. "If anyone doesn't care, _it's you._ Which is understandable, because I don't really even think I'd care about me either! It's fine! It's all good!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, don't cry," Amami took a step closer to Ouma. Ouma stepped away from Amami, rubbing at his eyes and covering his face with outspread fingers. 

"I'm _not_ crying! It's _raining!_ " 

Without another thought, Amami wrapped his arms around Ouma. Ouma gasped under his hold, slightly turning his head and looking at the side of Amami's face. Amami closed his eyes and whispered in Ouma's ear, "I feel _terrible._ "

Ouma snorted. "Yeah, you kinda should feel terrible." Amami frowned, loosening his grip on Ouma. He tried to pull away but Ouma quickly pulled him back.

"Wait. I mean, don't feel bad. Because it's you and you're _you_ , I'll forgive you only this once." Amami smiled at that, replying back with a, "Thank you." Ouma lightly punched Amami in the shoulder.

"Hey, uh, Ouma?"

"Hey, uh, what?" Ouma giggled. 

"I care about you too. I care more than I should. I guess that's why I've been such a wet blanket," Amami pulled away from Ouma and gazed into his eyes. He leaned in even closer towards Ouma, feeling the way the purple-haired boy's shoulders trembled as he placed a warm kiss to his forehead. He was sure he was shaking too, and maybe it was because the rain was cold, but maybe it was because Ouma's never said anything that nice to him; Because its you and you're _you_.

Amami normally isn't very emotional, but for some reason it's like everything is pouring out of him all at once, in the same way the rain is falling from the sky. This week has been dramatic, and maybe that's why it's easier for Amami to be certain of how he feels.

He knew kissing Ouma was a bad idea, but you know what else he thought was a bad idea? Stealing a bag of Cheetos and a month's supply of slushie from a gas station, but that turned out pretty well. If he hadn't done that, he wouldn't be here now, confessing to Ouma on the side of a highway. 

It's not the most romantic place to do this, but it's a place. Anything is romantic when it's raining. 

Amami felt proud of himself, because in the course of that evening he finally felt like he figured Ouma out, just a bit.

"I care about you because I really _really_ like you. I like how you only eat six M &MS at a time, all of different colors, because it gives you the best flavor combination, even though they're _all the same_ ," Amami kissed his cheek, feeling the wetness of Ouma's tears against his lips. Ouma's voice trailed off as he whispered out, "What are you even doing?" 

"I like how you always pull the blanket over your shoulders whenever we watch a scary movie, even though you say you're not scared. Do you know how much I wanna be that blanket?" Amami said with a reminiscent laugh, peppering Ouma's other cheek with a kiss. Something about this just... felt _right_. The feeling Amami got when he kissed Ouma took control of his body, making his smile wide and his heart feel light. 

"I like how you always send me a link to some new cringy video you found. They never fail to make me laugh because they're just so _terribly perfect_ ," Amami praised. Ouma shook his head, baffled. Amami placed a finger to Ouma's lips to quiet him from saying anything else.

“I _like_ you, Ouma. I like you a lot.” Amami smiled down at Ouma, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. 

Immediately, Ouma replied, "I-I like you too... Aw, fuck it, _I love you!_ "Ouma hadn't noticed more tears running down his face, dripping off his chin.

"You... what?" Amami was _dumbfounded_.

Ouma took a deep, shaky breath. "I can't bring myself to lie to _you_ , Amami-chan. It just hurts my heart," Amami stared at Ouma, eyes wide, and Ouma looked ashamed of himself, nervously biting his thumbnail. 

Ouma's face quickly cracked into a grin, showing no signs of the sadness he was feeling before, except for the drying tears on his cheeks. "I'm joking, of co—"

Amami placed his hands on Ouma's shoulders and clashed their lips together. 

Amami had known Ouma for _four years_. He was an expert at telling when Ouma was lying. This time was no different.

Ouma's eyes widened in unadulterated shock, but he quickly just shrugged his shoulders, closed his eyes, and indulged in the kiss, because _why not?_

Their noses bumped together a bit, and Amami wrapped his arms around Ouma's waist as Ouma placed his hands on Amami's cheeks. The kiss was a little clumsy, and both of them were just _acting_ like they totally knew what they were doing, but it was still _real_. When their lips touched everything came into full circle. There were no more doubts, no more pain. The world around them blasted in bright colors, saturation and luminosity burning through the horizon like a flame to napalm. Who _cares_ if dirty rainwater is getting into their mouths, and who cares if their spectacle was on display to the entirety of the highway? Both of them felt so free and so ecstatic, so they could care less. 

"Like hell you are," Amami said, pulling away just a bit. He needed to ground himself; he was extremely dizzy. 

"Kiss me again," Ouma immediately demanded, entangling his hands in Amami's hair, which was a feeling _way past_ euphoria. Euphoria 2.0.

"Did you think I would stop?" Amami breathlessly asked, immediately diving back into another kiss. He had to bend down quite a bit in order to reach Ouma's lips, but he didn't mind at all. Amami thought nothing, compelled by the way their lips moved together. Everything else seemed to evaporate and wash away, like how sun melts snow and turns it to water. He closed his eyes and wished for the moment to go on forever.

Eventually, they pull away when they've run out of air and when a boom of thunder makes them both jump and bump their foreheads together. 

"That was like, _the coolest thing ever,_ " Ouma blatantly stated. Amami could only nod his head, hands still fastened around Ouma's waist. The rain had stopped, but dark clouds still loomed overhead. 

"Should we go back to the car?" Amami asked.

"Only if you ask me to be your boyfriend first!" Amami's cheeks reddened at Ouma's request. 

"You're insufferable," Amami groaned, not bothering to hide his small smile. 

"Do it!"

Amami took a deep breath for dramatic effect, before asking, "Will you be my boyfriend?"

"Do you even have to ask?" Ouma exclaimed, eyes lighting up with joy. 

"You just told me to!" Amami sputtered, brows knitting together in confusion. 

"Hmm," Ouma tapped his bottom lip with his index finger, "I don't remember that."

"Let's go back to the car." Amami turned to get back in the car and wait out the rain for a bit longer. 

"By the way, Amami-chan," Ouma walked besides Amami and lightly shoved his shoulder into the other boy's arm, "I lied earlier about why I did what I did. Sorry. Truth be told, I just wanted to see you shirtless." They were standing by the front window of the car now, and Ouma rubbed his hand across the water droplets on the windshield to make it clear.

Amami curiously looked at Ouma and quirked his lips up. "I can still do that for you." Amami reached for the bottom of his shirt and began to pull it over his head.

"No! Now it's just _weird!_ " Ouma stared at him with wide eyes. Amami dropped his shirt and placed his hands back at his sides. 

"Haha, right," Amami said, still smiling. 

They both sat in their respective seats, both of their hands meeting each other's in the center immediately. Amami switched gears and began to drive back onto the road. Ouma snuggled up to the car seat, throats burning from all the yelling he had done. Normally he doesn't have to yell. Normally he gets what he wants very quickly. There's nothing about Amami Rantarou that is simply normal, which is probably why it's different. 

When they arrive back to Ouma's house, they don't go straight to bed. They sit in Ouma's basement and play board games on the cold and dirty concrete floor. Amami, in a streak of pure luck, takes over one of Ouma's favorite properties. Ouma threatens to shove a train-shaped game piece in his nose, and the madman almost does it. They both made a deal that each time the other gets a new piece of property, they have to reward them with a kiss. By the end of the night both their lips are swollen and red, and Amami is seeing stars.

Today was a weird day for the both of them. The best way to end something like this is with lots of laughter, affection, and a game board completely soaked in grape soda.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;) yell heahuh


	6. hopeless at your door again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To learn more about someone else, you must explore their interests! Even the wanton, illegal ones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bro im so sorry i haven’t updated in three months,,, i just started a new school and it actually sucks anyways 
> 
> take this,,,, 
> 
> (there aren’t gonna be a lot of fast-paced chapters like this in the future,,, shits gonna get mellow real fast)

**Ouma, 1:28 PM:**  
can you come over like right now cause i really need you and just i'm freaking out i need you please

Amami looked down at his phone, face showing nothing but pure worry. 

**Amami, 1:29 PM:**  
Sure, I'll be there soon

The day after their trip to the mall, Amami's little sisters begged him to come over and spend some time with them. He figured it couldn't hurt to go over for a day, and then for the rest of the break he'd stay at Ouma's as planned. He enjoyed spending time with his sisters, but since he sees them quite often, there's only so much you could do for fun. 

The text he received from Ouma was alarming and out of character. Ouma likes to send texts littered with emojis, because they're fun and make conversations more colorful. This time he had sent none, which lead Amami to believe something was really wrong.

He said goodbye to his sisters and quickly left, walking, then speeding up, and then full-on sprinting to Ouma's house. 

He's never gotten a text like this before, from anyone. Amami wished he could say he knew what to do. Whenever one of his sisters was sad about something, Amami never had to do the bulk of the talking. He just patted their back and took them out for ice cream and told them that they'd find a way to solve the problem. 

If Ouma just needs his presence right now then the least he can do is be there. Amami knows Ouma is perfectly fine with talking to Amami about something for hours and not getting a reply. Maybe he just needs someone to rant to.

Amami was out of breath when he reached Ouma's doorstep. His fingers quickly flew to ring the doorbell, and in a few seconds Ouma opened the door just a bit, one eye peering at Amami. Ouma seemed to perk up as he opened the door so Amami could come inside.

"What's wrong?" Amami asked, eyes widening in concern.

"Something terrible happened!" Ouma exclaimed, a small frown etched onto his face. Amami tilted his head in eagerness, gesturing for Ouma to explain more. Ouma ran a hand through his hair, messing up the neat part.

"I meant to order a small pizza, but they gave me a large! What am I supposed to do with all this?" Ouma sighed, exasperation heavy in his voice. He pleadingly looked to Amami, trying his best not to laugh and his boyfriend's stern expression.

"You did not just make me run over here for _pizza._ " 

Ouma drags a slice out of the pizza box, holding it up to his mouth before saying, "Half of it's pineapple. For you, and your bad taste in pizza toppings."

Amami's heart throbs, and soon he finds himself sitting on Ouma's couch, playing a sports game that Amami is pretty good at and shoving pineapple pizza down his gullet like it's his last day alive. Ouma doesn't mind that he's covering the game controller in grease. Amami lazily flicks the game controller forwards, sending a bowling ball rolling into action on the screen. He gets a strike, and Ouma immediately accuses him of using cheats, just like he has done the last six times Amami has gotten a strike. 

Okay, so maybe Amami is more than just pretty good at bowling. He just got lucky, that's all. 

Ouma stands up from the couch with a huff of aggravation, standing right in front of the TV and holding the game controller up to his chest, like you would with a normal bowling ball. He swings his arm back in a swift motion, almost hitting Amami in the face, and then swings it forwards. His blue bowling ball goes straight into the gutter, and Ouma looks back at Amami with a smirk. 

"I meant to do that. Just wanted you to see what your next few rolls are gonna look like."

Amami blinks, wondering if Ouma also meant to put more than half of the throws he had earlier into the gutter as well.

Amami had 150 points. Ouma had 20. Even if he got only strikes for his next 3 turns, he still wouldn't be able to beat the score Amami had. 

Ouma steadied himself again, sticking his left arm out to the side to provide more balance, while he brought the controller close to his torso once more. He slowly pulled his right arm back and then forward again, watching the ball tumble straight forward and knock down all ten pins. The word, "Spare," slid across the screen, and Ouma turned back to Amami with a cheeky grin. He sat back down and waited for Amami to take his turn. 

Amami didn't stand up to bowl, mainly because last time he did so Ouma slapped his ass. And not in the cute, playful, romantic way. It was a threat. A threat that left a _bruise_ , which Amami didn't even know was possible from a slap. 

The green-haired boy lightly shook the remote again, watching as yet another bowling ball headed straight for the first pin. This time, Amami only knocked down 9 pins. Ouma let out a holler of joy, throwing his hands up into the air. On Amami's second roll, he purposefully throws the bowling ball into the gutter, which makes Ouma even happier. 

Ouma knew Amami did that on purpose, but he's still going to milk the fuck out of the opportunity to tease Amami for not being perfect at Wii bowling.

When Ouma takes his last three turns, he gets a strike each time, and his score goes up to 130, which is basically a Christmas Miracle in April. Amami ends the game with 207 points, but Ouma still feels triumphant over the fact that he did better than Amami in the last three rounds of their game. Ouma lies and says that the first seven rounds of the game he was just faking being bad at bowling to get Amami's guard down. Amami almost believes him. Almost. 

Amami feels like he had to grow up too fast. He knows it's the same for his other older siblings too. With his father weaving in and out of his life so often, Amami quickly realized that he would have to be the most mature out of all of his siblings. He would never say that he's their replacement father, but sometimes, when his younger siblings fall and scrape their knee, he's by their side so quickly that even he is surprised.

It's not like he's constantly parenting and watching over his siblings; his littlest sister had a particularly rough incident involving a rotating scooter and two bruised ankles, and another one still had a scar from that time she fell out of a tree, so Amami really can't say he's the most fit to watch over these rambunctious minions. 

A lot of his childhood was spent mostly on caring for his sisters rather than himself. They all like him, and that makes Amami pretty happy, but it also means Amami basically has no free time. When he visits home on the weekends, all his sisters want some one-on-one time with him, and he hates seeing them upset or disappointed, so he obliges. 

With Ouma, it's way different. With Ouma, Amami can say stupid things and not have to worry about making dinner for twelve screaming munchkins. Amami can fearlessly win a video game and not have to worry about consoling the loser. With Ouma, Amami gets to be a loud and obnoxious kid again, not the quiet boy who's only friends were his sisters.

He's thankful for Ouma, even though he's started two dumpster fires on the same day before and has almost gotten them arrested for being too cheeky with a school security guard. He'll tell him that some day, but he can't do it now, or else Ouma will only wrongly assume it's because Amami pities him for losing at bowling. 

"I probably put a lot of pressure on you yesterday. Saying I love you and all," Ouma spoke up, face brightened by the TV screen. His voice was solemn but inquisitive, like he didn't want to know the answer but he _needed_ to.

"Hmm?" It took a couple seconds for what Ouma had said to set in. It was really random. Amami was kinda preoccupied with putting a new disc into a video game console. "Ah, no, you didn't. Weird time to bring it up though... Are you alright?"

Ouma snickered. "You looked pretty stressed." Amami frowned at how Ouma ignored his question. 

"Yeah. I'm good now, though." Amami had definitely simmered down after their night of board games. He can't even remember what he was mad about. That's just what Ouma does to people.

"You were stressed for the whole evening actually! You were interrogating me and yelling, and I'm being entirely honest when I say I was a little terrified. It was like you were another person."

"...Thank you for your honesty." Yesterday, Amami was freaking out because he didn't want to lose Ouma, so it's only natural he'd be stressed. He still doesn't think that's an excuse for some things he said though, but he's thankful. If he hadn't been such a little bitch, they wouldn't be where they are now. 

"I think I promised to never lie to you or something like that, and I never break promises!" Ouma grinned. 

"Aren't a lie and a promise the same thing though? You can't really guarantee anything... except your own existence."

"That was edgy. Who hurt you?"

Amami chuckled. "No one, no one."

Ouma made a hum of acquiescence, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes at Amami.

"What?" Amami asked him, busy setting up the settings for the video game. 

"I'm analyzing you."

"Okay. That's my thing, but give it a go," Amami smiled and sat back down on the couch next to Ouma.

Ouma squinted his eyes for a few seconds before pursing his lips and giving up, snuggling closer to Amami's shoulder. 

"Let's just play our game."

\---

By the end of the day, the two of them had done absolutely nothing productive in the slightest. Amami is pretty certain he had homework to complete over the break, and he hasn't even started on it. If it exists. He doesn't even _know._

They decided to walk around Ouma's neighborhood, which was a bit of a strain on their legs considering how long they had been sitting around playing video games and watching dog videos. It was dark outside, and the glow of the moon was barely visibly under it's thick mask of clouds. The air was cold and Amami could barely see where he was going. Ouma grabbed his hand and started pulling him across he grass into a section of the woods, where tall trees scraped the sky and dark fog weaved in and out of the branches. 

"Come on, lets go explore stuff!" Ouma pleaded, grip tightening on Amami's arm. Amami smiled and followed behind, letting Ouma's tiny fingers pull at his sweater as they moved further into the forest.

"So, do you know what's back here?" Amami said, stepping over a bundle of sharp twigs and weeds, "It looks like no one's been back here in decades."

Ouma shrugged, sliding his hand down to hold Amami's hand, and slowing his steps to stand besides his boyfriend. "That's what makes this fun. Don't get too scared!" Amami chuckled, scratching at the back of his neck. "I won't."

Eventually, they stopped walking once they reached a portion of the woods that was a bit lighter than before, and had a small creek. Water rippled against stones, and it was peaceful, a bit of an oasis in the middle of a dark forest at two in the morning. 

"What did you think was so interesting back here?" Amami asked, hoping he didn't come off as rude. The creek was cool and all, but it didn't seem like Ouma's thing. Then again, Amami had always been too quick to jump to conclusions about the young leader. 

"Glad you asked that, Amami-chan!" Ouma let go of Amami's hand and took a seat on a large rock in the middle of the creek, wading through the ankle-high water to reach it first. He seemed to shine, sitting there in the middle of a dark forest, wearing all white like an angel. His dark hairs even seemed to create a halo around his head. 

"This is my spot. It's got a lot of special meaning to me," Ouma spoke up and smiled down at the creek, picking up a smooth stone and rubbing the pad of his thumb across the surface. "This creek is like the only constant in my life..." Ouma frowned down at the water, seeming lost in though for a second. 

"Just kidding," Ouma smirked, "I only like this spot cause there was a huge frog here once, and he followed me home. I fed him fruit snacks. He died."

"Oh," Amami said, stupidly. 

"I don't know why I chose to take you here. It's dark, and kinda icky, and I got a poison ivy rash last time I came down here." Ouma's eyes suddenly widened, barely visible in the dark. "That reminds me, Amami-chan, you might wanna move your foot."

Amami jumped, looking down at the leaves that were tickling his ankles before stepping away from them. He couldn't really see if they were poison ivy or not, but he didn't feel like taking his chances. 

"...Kidding! Wow; you're really gullible, huh?"

"Mm, a bit."

"Kind of a pansy too," Ouma huffed, crossing his arms and leaning back at the rock. Amami immediately knew, judging by the way he began to carry himself, that he was getting at something. Like he was challenging Amami to deny him. 

"You think?" Amami asked, lifting his eyebrows in curiosity. Amami doesn't consider himself a daring individual like Ouma, but he definitely isn't always ready to do something extreme. He considers himself mellow. Just a chill, mellow dude who occasionally steals starfish from aquariums. 

"Yeah! You always seem kinda worried about getting caught. And you chicken out of things."

Amami frowned and tilted his head to the side. "You're not wrong."

"At first, I thought you were gonna be super calm and just do whatever, but suddenly if it's deadly you want no part in it! It's kinda lame honestly... You're not living life on the edge." Ouma spoke as if he was disappointed in Amami, and Amami didn't want that!

"Well, wait—" Ouma smirked at Amami, clearly noticing how he was desperate to change Ouma's mind.

"I can do cool things, now at least. Before I was hesitant, but now... I'll do it if it makes you happy." That was cheesy. Ouma seemed to like cheesy, judging by the way his eyes widened and he nervously looked towards the ground. 

"I-If you're so sure... help me steal something! Consider it a test of strength."

Amami thought for a bit, about whether or not he should just blindly agree to do this, but he felt like he could trust Ouma enough to agree.

"M'kay," Amami complied. Ouma giggled, because he is a loser, and sat up from his rock to pull Amami down by the collar of his shirt for a kiss. 

Amami is very glad he agreed.

\---

Never mind. He is not glad. He's a little terrified. He's good at hiding it, but he's still nervous. 

Agreeing before knowing what the item that Amami was supposed to steal was a bad idea. He thinks he needs to have more faith in Ouma, though. After all, he's never really given Ouma a chance to prove himself, and he feels terrible for doing that, but now Ouma has a shot.

But this? This was too far.

A motorcycle. Outside a restaurant. That was crowded with people. 

"You really want me to steal this? Can we even get it started?" Amami asked, frowning apprehensively. Ouma loosely waved his hand, replying with a sly, "What? Too scared?" 

Amami looked toward Ouma in the parking lot they were standing in. It was the evening and the sky was completely dark save for a few flecks of stars and the moon. They were on a crowded street though, with lamps illuminating their every move and people rushing back and forth from place to place. 

"How many people are really gonna take time out of their day to report something like this? Once you get the bike started you're basically home free!" Ouma continued to coax Amami into attempting to steal the bike. 

"Is there any way to start it up?" Amami asked.

"Well, I'm almost positive we can do it with this one. If we can't, we'll find another bike!"

"If anyone sees us we could get into a lot of trouble."

"So that's why no one has to see us. If you want I can seriously do it for you. I'm more experienced with this kind of stuff." Nothing about Ouma's tone suggested he was trying to manipulate or force Amami into anything. 

"That terrifies me that you're experienced, but just for now why don't you do it?"

"Okay, but next time you're gonna do it!" Ouma began walking toward the motorcycle, unconsciously putting a bounce in his step. He was excited 

"Wait!" Ouma turned around, confused by Amami's sudden exclamation.

"I... I'll do it now. It can't be that hard, right? No ones really looking over here. It's a relatively empty parking lot. I'll make it look as natural as possible."

"Really? For me? Alright, have at it!" Ouma pressed a small, copper wire into Amami's hand. "I'll go with you. If you electrocute yourself, that'd just be embarrassing, so I'll help you." Amami smiled, clutching the wire in his hand.

Ouma and Amami both walked over to the bike. Ouma walked over very casually, while Amami kept nervously looking around and keeping an eye out. When they reached the motorcycle, Ouma kneeled down next to the front of the bike. 

"All you've got to do is detach that plastic part here," Ouma touched a small plastic piece connected to a few wires under the motorcycle, "and then stick that wire I gave you into the two holes here." 

"...How do you know this?" Amami asked. Ouma shrugged his shoulders. "Internet videos," he replied. 

Amami kneeled next to Ouma, doing just as he instructed. He stuck the copper wire into the two holes, and the bike roared to life. Amami looked at Ouma, a pleased smile on his face. 

"Hurry, we gotta get on!" Ouma shouted. 

"Are you driving?" Amami asked Ouma, standing up and turning towards him.

"...Wanna try?" Ouma smirked, squinting his eyes at Amami.

Amami had a moped once. Surely this can't be so different.

He sat on the bike, holding and slowly releasing the clutch lever, before placing both of his hands on the handlebars and revving the engine. Ouma wiggled onto the rest of the seat behind Amami, laughing wildly as they charged forward into the night.

Ouma was loving this. Amami was ready to piss himself any second.

It was kind of frightening at first, but soon everything fell into place. Amami let the wind whipping around his head engulf him. There was always something he appreciated more about being out in the open air, no noise except that of the wind around you and the cool touch of the air. Amami has always been a sucker for anything outside. 

Ouma wrapped his hands around Amami's waist, and Amami chuckled blowing right past a red light at a number way higher than the speed limit.

"Whoa! Seriously?" Ouma asked, incredulously looking at Amami. What a daring move! He began to wonder if Amami had a secret side that Ouma didn't know about, a side that craved for adventure and excitement. Amami laughed, a carefree and joyous thing, and Ouma couldn't help but giggle along with him.

"This is so bad, but so _fun,_ " Amami admitted, voice holding tones of adoration Ouma felt himself melt at. He hid it well though, only snickering and looking to his side, watching the word speed by. "I told you it'd be! Did you doubt me?"

"A little!" Amami was still laughing, occasionally spreading his fingers out above the handle bar to feel the wind twirl around them. Ouma removed his hands from their hold around Amami's waist and opted to do the same, reaching his hands into the air and letting out a scream of happiness. 

"Where to?" Amami asked, looking back to Ouma for a split second before keeping his eyes on the road. He was a little nervous about driving this thing, but everything seemed like it was going fine. 

"Mm... dunno! Let's just go wherever!" 

The two of them kept on driving with no particular place in mind, Amami relishing the cool wind that filled his lungs and the fact that Ouma was always so cold. He had never really realized it before, but the kid was always freezing. Amami always liked the cold though, so it’s not like it’s a big deal. On hot humid nights like these, he wouldn’t mind having Ouma place his hands on his face and cool him off. He’s like a little greasy ice pack.

It felt like the world was just the two of them, speeding down a road in the middle of _god knows where_ , in a town where no one knows their names. They bursted down crowded streets, passing apartment buildings and corner shops, swerving off and on the road as they made up their own shortcuts. Thankfully, it was so late out there weren’t too many cars, so Amani could really learn the rules of the road.

Which is crucial, because he doesn’t have his license and has never actually driven anything other than a moped. Neither of them cared, because no one else did. Who would take time out of their day to report a motorcycle going a little above the speed limit? No one does that. 

At least, that’s what Amami thought, before he stopped seeing the indigo sky and started seeing coruscating vermillion lights

“Oh dear, I don’t have my license!” Amami exclaimed, looking back to Ouma with wide eyes. 

“Speed up!” Ouma was trying to be serious, and Amami appreciated it, but he still seemed excited at the prospect of being chased by a cop. The sound of sirens was loud in their ears, and Amami sped up the motorcycle and quickly switched lanes, desperate to get away from the police but still using his blinker for the courtesy of everyone else on the road that night. 

“Make a hard left here.” Almost instantly Amami followed Ouma's command and veered the bike left, wheels dropping off of the road and onto a small hiking trail. Amami sped up even more, frantically hoping the bike had enough gas to last them what could be hours of speeding through the country. Pebbles and leaves crunched under the heavy motorcycle's wheels, and Amami grimaced, hands shaking on the handlebars as he slowed the bike, but not to a complete stop.

“We cornered ourselves!” He whispered, “What now?” 

“I’ll drive! I know what to do!” Ouma speedily ushered Amami back onto the bike, except this time he was sitting behind Ouma. Ouma sped up, cringing at the loud noise the bike made. Every move they made was just another noise that would alert the police to where they were.

Ouma sped up even faster, and let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Amami mentally wrote his will in his head, wondering which of his sisters would appreciate his laptop more. 

Ouma snickered and as soon as he was back on the trail again he sharply turned, causing Amami to grip onto the back of his shirt. He felt a branch cut against his cheek, leaving a painful sting.

“Isn’t this awesome?” Ouma asked, breathing heavy, cheeks flushed pink. Amami looked back behind himself, eyes scanning around for those obnoxious red lights, but he couldn’t see any. “Maybe,” Amami replied, setting his head on Ouma's shoulder as his hands came around his waist. He lightly tickled Ouma's stomach, resulting in a playful glare from the boy. “You’ll make me fall off! You wouldn’t do something like that to me, right?” Ouma batter his eyelashes and dramatically pointed his lips, Amami gently shoving him in the shoulder for being such a _dweeb._

Ouma made multiple sharp turns, causing Amami to grip onto him even more. Ouma knew this neck of the woods pretty well. Now that Amami thinks about it, it seems like everything they do is in the woods. He supposed it was just the best place to run around and do dangerous things.

Little did he know that Ouma only was constantly exploring the woods in hopes of finding a body, claiming that he was distressed, and then getting a month off school so he could heal. 

Ouma abruptly stopped the bike in front of a tall tree, jumping off and beginning to climb up the side of it. His small hands grabbed one branch after another, and he was looking down at Amami as he was hoisting himself up.

“You gotta climb,” Ouma explained. Amami hesitated for only a split-second, making him feel extremely guilty after it. He was just worried Ouma didn’t have a plan, but as he observed how Ouma didn’t smile and how his eyes flutter from one branch to the next— like he had memorized where the branches were — he decided he had to trust Ouma on this one. 

Amami grabbed the first branch and then the one after it, pulling himself up as quickly as he could. Ouma was already somewhere at the top, hidden behind the leaves of the tree and the dark of the night. Amami kept climbing, reassured by Ouma’s exhausted pants and inhales.

When Amami reached the center of the tree, the wood felt very different. It was more polished and smooth. He flinched when a small, cold hand came to rest on his arm and pull him up some more. Ouma was soon face to face with Amami, standing in a dark and mossy treehouse. The floor creaked under Amani’s feet, and he was afraid it would collapse under his weight any second.

Ouma had the audacity to _laugh_ , and at first Amami was confused, but he soon found himself lightly laughing along with Ouma, shaking his head back and forth.

“We’re _idiots,_ ” Amami whispered. 

“But it was so much fun! My heart is racing!" Ouma whisper-screamed, placing a hand over his heart. A large smile spread from ear-to-ear on his face, and his eyes shone with newfound excitement. Amami chuckled and leaned up against a wall of the treehouse. "I've actually never really _stolen_ something like this before! I lied. You seemed more comfortable with motorcycles and bikes so I figured it would be better for us to try and steal one of those." Amami's heart swelled at the kind gesture. 

"This reminds me of the first time we ever did something like this," Amami said, reaching for Ouma's hand but instead getting a kiss on the cheek. 

"Yeah," Ouma mumbled, "that was so fun! My legs were super sore afterwards, but I'm just glad I got free food. Plus, if it hadn't..." Ouma trailed off, blushing out of pure embarrassment, although Amami would never know that because it was dark under the frail roof of the treehouse.

Ouma didn't have to finish his sentence. Amami understood. They wouldn't be where they were now had it not been for Ouma pushing Amami out of his comfort zone. 

Amami felt a powerful surge of love and affection flow throughout his body. God, Ouma was so special to him. He's not sure if he loves him yet, but he most certainly would give Ouma the world if he could. Is that love? Amami doesn't know. He can't believe he didn't know of his own _feelings_ towards Ouma until a few days ago, so of course finding out just how deep they run might take longer than he'd like. Is this moving too fast? Did Amami have this much anxiety before?

Amami shrugs his shoulders. Some part of him thinks that it doesn’t really matter. 

"You were just as cute that time around too," Amami admitted, looking down at his hands. 

"Amami-chan, you're too sweet!" Ouma fanned his face, pulling a laugh from Amami. Amami leaned close to kiss Ouma on the lips, and Ouma looped his arms around Amami's neck. "My big, strong, brave Amami-chan! I'm so proud I might just cry... you stole a whole motorcycle! For me!" Ouma's voice was quiet as he added on, "You really like me, don't you?"

"Shut up," Amami chuckled, adoring the way Ouma shyly looked up to him, eager to hear the answer. 

"Make me."

That was all it took. Amami leaned in close to Ouma's ear and whispered, "You really want me to?" Ouma's cheeks were scarlet as he whispered back, "Why not?" He sounded coy and innocent, but his smile was mischievous and _far too attractive_.

Holy fuck, holy _fuck._ Every little voice of reason disappeared from Amami’s mind. He forgot they were literally running from the law, and hiding in a random tree house in the middle of nowhere, opting instead to make out with his boyfriend after they had only been dating for twenty-four hours. Amami Rantarou is a _mess._ Its a good thing Ouma is a mess too. They can be messes together.

Amami dived in to kiss Ouma on the lips, gently pushing the boy against the floor of the treehouse. Due to the force of impact, Ouma’s head was slammed against the ground, causing him to yelp out, “Fuck! Dude!” 

“I’m so sorry!” Amami apologized after breaking their kiss abruptly, eyebrows creasing with concern. “Are you alright?”

“Am I _bleeding?_ ” Ouma’s hand moved up to the back of his head, briefly touching a spot before cringing.

“You should sit up, before—”

Ouma ran his hands through Amami's hair and kissed him. Amami flinched and made a startled noise, akin to the noise of a bird being slowly shredded to death by a cheese grater. Or if you’d prefer a less morbid comparison, he sounded like a very scared goat. Ouma's tongue licked at Amami's bottom lip, but this time it slipped into his mouth and slide across his own tongue, earning a sigh from the younger boy. 

Ouma tugged on Amami's soft locks of hair, and Amami couldn’t restrain the almost _pornographic_ moan that escaped his throat. Fuck, this was embarrassing.

“Haha, _gay,”_ Ouma snidely remarked, face pink with color. Amami didn’t hesitate in kissing him again, mainly because it’s the perfect way to get Ouma to shut up. Both of their lips grew red and sore, breathing heavy and faces flushed. 

“Lay off me a bit,” Ouma breathed out.

“Huh? Say that once more.” Amami actually couldn’t hear _shit._

“Wow, you’re a mess. And you’re crushing my ribcage.” Amami got the strangest feeling of deja vu at that, but he was too distracted by it to notice Ouma pushing his chest up with his small hands.

Ouma motioned for Amami to sit up against the wall. He kissed Amami's jaw, fully intent on leaving a mark, which Amami was okay with. Maybe he wasn't, he didn't know; he couldn't really focus with the way one of Ouma's hands began to entangle in his hair for the nth time that evening. One of his sisters is good at makeup so he's sure he can cover whatever marks Ouma leaves up. He might not even do that. He might just fucking leave them all out, because why the hell not?

"Ouma, babe, you're s—"

Ouma froze and stopped kissing Amami's neck, briefly looking up to his face and those green eyes that seemed to glow under the moonlight. 

“What the fuck.” 

“Sorry! I won’t do it again!” Amami quickly states. Oh, so Ouma cutting his head, calling Amami gay, and complaining about Amami’s weight didn’t kill the mood, but the word “babe” did? Amami doesn’t understand this boy.

Breathlessly, Ouma demanded, "No no no, holy _shit_ call me that again."

"Babe." Ouma loved how it wasn't even a question. 

"Hell yeah," Ouma went back to Amami's neck and started placing kisses down it at a faster pace, eliciting a laugh from Amami. Both of them felt extremely hot, and Amami wanted to take his shirt off but he knew that might take things too far. They already shouldn't be melting all over each other like this; it had barely been a day!

Amami's hair was tangled and messy, and Ouma thoroughly enjoyed the sight of him like that. There was something way too hot about seeing Amami lose his cool and composure.

As Ouma gently bit down on Amami's collarbone he whispered out, " _Fuck_ , O-Ouma you're so good." 

Ouma snickered and Amami wasted no time bringing their lips back together. Eventually, Amami pulled away much to Ouma's distaste.

"We should stop, huh?"

"Oh, yeah. Probably..."

Amami placed one last kiss to Ouma's lips, only lasting a second. "We can't be all over each other like this, you know?" Ouma nodded, not saying anything else on the matter. 

"The police are probably gone," Ouma changed the topic of conversation.

"Wanna head back?"

Ouma nodded, climbing down the tree and waiting for Amami at the bottom.

"I’m curious now... why are you good at that dirty talk thing?” Ouma asked, looking up at Amami. 

"Dunno. Just something in a romance movie I guess? I’m clueless when it comes to all this stuff.”

"Two things: one, you’re clueless when it comes to _everything,_ and two... you watch romance movies?”

"It's all there is at my house. That’s why I practically live at yours,” Amami shoved his shoulder into Ouma’s, nearly knocking the boy over, but Ouma picked himself up quickly. 

“Huh,” was all Ouma said. They walked home together, not really saying much of anything. The motorcycle laid under the treehouse, and the one police car from earlier patrolled all around the area, not finding a trace of the two bandits. 

Everything had gone perfectly. They hadn’t been arrested, and Amami got to make out with a cute boy, so this day was pretty good for him. 

As they walked back to Ouma’s house, shoulders light and stars illuminating their skin, a little voice in the back of Amami’s head said, “ _You love him more than you think you do._ ”


	7. an unlikely team

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe a break from all the illegal activities is what Ouma and Amami need... luckily, Amami knows just where to go for some relaxation and peace!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> on kind of a serious note, i cannot thank you guys enough for all the kind words and support you’ve given me!!!! i was so nervous that everything wasn’t characterized correctly, but im ecstatic to know that you guys are enjoying reading this, despite all its cheesiness and fast-paced romance. i also know that it feels like a lot of work to write a comment—there are plenty of fics I’ve read that I think are amazing but i don’t leave anything but a kudos—so the fact you guys took time out of your day to write me some happy stuff really makes me smile! thank you thank you thank you!!!!!
> 
> enough with the cheese tho; let’s get back to TheBoys™ this chapter was inspired by a tweet I saw

**Ouma, 2:10 PM:**  
do you like cute guys on rollerblades

 **Amami, 2:11 PM:**  
Ouma go home I can't hangout 

**Ouma, 2:11 PM:**  
check your window :)

Amami reluctantly got up from the couch and headed to his room, ignoring the confused glances he was getting from his sisters as to why he stopped playing their board game. When he opened the door to his room, he couldn't see anything outside. 

**Amami, 2:13 PM:**  
I don't see u if ur supposed to be outside

 **Ouma, 2:13 PM:**  
LOOK DOWN YOU TALL FUCK

Amami stepped closer to the window and looked further down, and sure enough, there was little Ouma, jumping in his rollerblades and waving his arms around erratically, sunglasses nearly falling off his face. It isn't even sunny out, there's no need for sunglasses. 

Amami opened his window with a sigh, smiling in the slightest. "What are you doing?" He asked. 

"I've come to serenade you! Just kidding, I don't sing, but I'm here anyways! Aren’t you grateful?” Ouma kept jumping up and down, letting the wheels of his rollerblades hit the ground, and Amami soon feared for his safety. "Stop jumping, you’ll slip," Amami shouted down to him. His house was only a two-story house, but he kind of felt like a princess in a tower from how he was yelling down to Ouma. 

Well, that’s definitely a phrase he hopes to forget he ever thought. 

Ouma stopped jumping as requested, and he took off the sunglasses he was wearing. "Can I come in?" Ouma made sure to look Amami in the eyes and bat his eyelashes. 

Amami is a man of reason. He normally has a reason behind everything he does, but this time he really didn't have a reason to say no to Ouma, so he hesitantly shouted down, "Okay, I'll unlock the back door!"

Before closing the window, Amami heard Ouma gasp and exclaim, "You're an angel, Rantarou Amami!" Amami chuckled nervously, mumbling a, "Maybe, if you think so," before leaving to unlock the back door. 

As soon as Amami made his way back downstairs and unlocked the back door, Ouma jumped inside, haphazardly slamming the door behind himself.

“Like my wheels?”

“You’re very...” Amami’s eyes widened as he realized that he could not stick to his extremely romantic response of, “You’re very cute in them,” because his younger sisters were all home and eagerly listening to his conversation with this random boy who seemingly broke into their house.

Amami never came out about any of this stuff. He never even _thought_ about it, because there was never a need to. He never looked into those strange, intrusive thoughts he got around Ouma, such as, “What if I kissed him right now” or “What if we were more than friends” because Amami always brushed those thoughts off immediately after they came. Everyone wonders what their friends are like in relationships and what they like to do with the people they love. Amami _friendzoned himself without even knowing it._

When one of his sisters hears him talking about something he and Akamatsu did over the weekend, or how he sat still for six hours while Angie painted him, she always asks, “Is that your girlfriend?” Amami always laughs and shakes his head. 

The point is: no one knows Amami likes boys.

“Big bro, who’s this?” One of Amami’s younger sisters came up to him, pointing at Ouma with one hand and holding a crayon with the other. 

Amami gave Ouma a look at hopefully conveyed the fact that he hadn’t told anyone about their relationship yet. 

“Um, this is just my frien—“

“I’m his bitch!” Ouma loudly interjected, forcefully crashing his lips onto Amami’s cheek, “His _bitch!_ ” Amami’s sister looked shocked, and so did all his other sisters who over heard the conversation. Amami’s cheeks were pinked with embarrassment, and he looked down at Ouma with a calm panic in his eyes. Amami is probably the only person in the whole word that can pull off a “calm panic”. Ouma’s lips silently formed an “o” shape, before he blinked and let out a short puff of air that sounded like he was snickering.

“Why’d he kiss you?” Amami’s sister asked, crayon waggling furiously in the air.

“It’s just a joke of ours, don’t worry about it! I’ll even do it to you!” Amami quietly gasped as Ouma gingerly kneeled down and gave Amami’s sister a much less intimate kiss on the cheek, his lips barely touching her skin. 

Amami’s sister giggled before running off back to where she was, and all of Amami’s other sisters seemed to do the same. 

_Score._

Amami silently yet quickly led Ouma upstairs to his bedroom, pulling Ouma inside before locking the door behind them and pulling Ouma into a hug. “You saved my ass,” Amami said, arms resting on the small of Ouma’s back. Ouma’s hands were curled up to his own chest, unsure of what to do.

“I know,” Ouma replied, not smirking like you would expect him to.

“ _Thank you._ ”

Ouma nodded his head, pulling away from Amami. “You owe me one though.”

Amami grinned apologetically, chuckling a bit as he said, “Seriously, I’ll do anything. Words can’t even express—”

“That red hoodie you have? Mine now,” Ouma demanded. Amami pulled back a bit, mouth hanging open in the slightest. He shook it off and went to his closet, pulling a red hoodie down from a hanger. The hoodie wasn’t in the best condition, given the fact that Amami really only used it for sleepwear and _oh now he understands why Ouma wanted this hoodie in particular._

His heart turned to jelly at the realization.

“Haha, yes! Fork it over!” Amami handed Ouma the hoodie, and the older boy didn’t hesitate to put it on, rolls of red fabric bunching up around his wrists. 

Now Amami didn’t have to keep his thoughts secret. “You look cute in it,” he whispered.

“I look cute in _everything,_ but I appreciate the sentiment,” Ouma leaned in, bringing his lips close to Amami’s ear. Amami let out a languid laugh as he drew Ouma in for another hug.

Amami drew small circles on the back of Ouma’s neck. “Let’s go camping today?”

“...Why? Are you sick?” Ouma quickly pulled back from Amami, false concern plastered all over his face, “Blink three times if you’re being forced to say this.”

Amami playfully blinked three times and Ouma gasped in response, eyes welling up with fake tears.

“I’m serious though! The weather is so nice today.”

Ouma thought about it for a while. Laying on the hard ground and having humidity puff up his hair to the point of no return sounded _absolutely lovely,_ but he’d much rather stay home. Amami could see this on his face, so he grabbed one of Ouma’s hands and whispered, “We can make s’mores.”

“With caramel and chocolate?”

“With _anything you want._ ”

Ouma took a deep breath and shook his shoulders, steeling himself for the words that were about to come out of his mouth. “Okay, let’s do it.” 

\---

If the weather is right, there’s nothing wrong with the outdoors. Amami would prefer everything to be outdoors. Having classes outside would be nice, he thinks. Amami has always liked the feeling of warm sun on his skin and the smell of nature. Amami has grown to appreciate the outdoors and the things it provides, although he really appreciates almost anything. Ouma likes the indoors. Whenever he goes outside, he comes back in with a multitude of bug bites and pink sunburns splayed across his face and forearms. The cool air provided by his air conditioner, and the dim light of the TV are where he thrives, which is just the issue. Ouma likes cool things. Amami Rantarou is cool. That’s how Ouma finds himself lugging an oversized backpack up a hill, listening to Amami hum some song for the eighth time in a row. It’s like he only knows one song!

No matter how many times Amami takes off his shirt to combat the humidity caking the air, it won’t make up for the pain in Ouma’s calves, the sad sweat stains starting to manifest on his shirt, and the heavy layer of sunscreen that feels like _tar._

Ouma remembers those painful conversations he’s had with Amami, about his manipulation and lies. He’s beginning to understand why Amami isn’t always okay with everything Ouma wants to do, because like _hell_ Ouma wants to do all of the shit Amami does. 

Is this fun for him? There’s no _danger,_ no _excitement_ , just plain boring trees and rocks and weird dragonflies that need to _go the fuck away._

“There’s a shady spot up here if you wanna rest for a bit,” Amami brought up, smiling down at Ouma. The violet-haired boy looked absolutely miserable. The outdoors are great, and he’s sure Ouma will eventually realize that! Even so, he couldn’t help but frown at how Ouma wasn’t enjoying himself as much as Amami was. 

“Don’t patronize me.”

“I wasn’t—”

“Shut it!”

Amami fondly sighed, carefully slipping a water bottle out of the side pocket on the backpack Ouma was wearing, secretly lightening the strain on the small boy’s shoulders a bit more. Amami put the bottle away in the bag he was wearing, right next to the other three water bottles and box of tinfoil he had also taken from Ouma’s bag. Ouma had insisted on carrying the heaviest bag and the kayak, which were almost as big as he was. Amami had underestimated Ouma. He figured Ouma would make Amami do all the dirty work from dawn to dusk, but Ouma was holding out pretty well. As well as he could anyways. 

Maybe the old Ouma would have made Amami do everything, but now it seems like Ouma has fixed his act a little bit. Amami already knows he will be assembling their tent and making dinner while Ouma plays games on his DS (the DS that Amami had told him not to bring, but now it’s in his bag and he can’t do anything about it), but he was just happy to see Ouma helping at all.

After what felt like a mile of walking up this trail, stepping over twigs and crunching pebbles under their shoes, Amami happily set his bag down and started digging through it. “This is the spot I always used to stay at. It’s just like I remember it!”

“Probably because no one who isn’t _completely insane_ would walk all the way up here,” Ouma retorted. Amami smiled even larger than before, noticing how Ouma was getting back to his normal self since they had stopped walking. Amami can’t blame Ouma though. Amami’s legs have gotten used to walking long distances and up steep hills, but Ouma can’t say the same.

Ouma threw the backpack and kayak on the ground with an unpleasant crunch, hands moving to his neck and shoulders to alleviate the pain. Amami rolled a water bottle over to Ouma from his spot on the ground, which Ouma snatched up with an alarming amount of eagerness. 

The spot Amami had chosen for them to camp out in was the same spot he had always chosen, a secret spot with large trees giving complete coverage and shade, and a placid lake nearby, brimming with fish and smooth rocks at the bottom. It was nice and tranquil, in contrast to Ouma who was vehemently screeching about a beehive that was nearby. 

Amami started pulling the tent out of Ouma’s bag, beginning to assemble it.

“Hold on!” Ouma interjected, briskly striding over to Amami, “I wanna help!”

Amami smiled, handing Ouma a few flexible poles. Amami said, “Can you stick these diagonally through the holes in the top? So one pole will be in—”

“Don’t worry, I got this!” Ouma exclaimed, weaving the poles into the tent with fervor. Amami frowned, noticing how the poles weren’t in the right places.

“No no. Diagonally. You want them to all cross each other,” Amami stood up, beginning to remove one of the poles, but Ouma placed a hand atop his arm and looked up at him with a confused expression.

“But they’re in the holes.”

“Well, yes, but you need them to cross.”

“You never said that!” Amami grimaced, remembering that he indeed did say to place them diagonally.

Ouma angrily puffed his cheeks out, ripping the poles from their previous places and putting them in the correct ones. Amami smiled as Ouma turned to him with a long smirk that stretched across his face. “I did that so well,” He chortled, “I deserve a reward.”

Amami ignored Ouma for just a second, quickly striding towards the tent to push the poles into the ground and secure them, to ensure the tent wouldn’t fall over. “There’s some crackers in the bag. Go nuts.” Ouma made a pleased noise and laid down on the grass, digging through the bag for his DS and the crackers. Meanwhile, Amami started setting up camp, placing some utilities such as a frying pan and some matches in the tent along with their sleeping bags.

“Ah, sharing a tent with Amami-chan. I can feel my heart _melting_ ,” Ouma fondly sighed out, placing a hand to his cheek in mock adoration. Amami playfully scoffed, discreetly shoving Ouma’s sleeping bag farther away from his own, in case Ouma tried to pull any funny business.

Last night was weird. Amami had two splinters in his neck from being rubbed against the harsh wood of the treehouse, and Ouma’s legs were covered in scrapes and cuts from their excursion. Amami’s never been good at feelings. He’s good at solving problems and finding clear-cut answers. Was it natural to move so quickly? He’s known Ouma for quite some time, but he only realized he liked him about a week ago. 

But maybe he shouldn’t worry. He’s always been good at not worrying. Maybe if he and Ouma just stay where they are now, in this comfortable little circle of soft affection to near _banging_ in a treehouse, everything will work itself out. 

Amami likes the sound of that.

Once everything was set up a few minutes later, Amami turned to Ouma, who was still angrily playing a game and munching on crackers underneath the shade of a tree. Amami chuckled at Ouma’s expression, because he knew Ouma was playing Animal Crossing, and _who in the world gets that angry while playing Animal Crossing?_

“Ouma,” Amami started to say, “I was thinking we could just walk around for a bit.”

“No. My legs are noodles. Can’t move.”

Amami frowned at this, but maybe it was for the best. In thirty minutes he’d check back in when Ouma was all rested. In the meantime, he decided to just walk around the perimeter and make sure everything was where he remembered it was. 

Apparently trees don’t move as often as he thought they did. 

Everything was the same. No trees had got up and walked off, and no lakes evaporated into thin air. Amami didn’t know what he was expecting. He still enjoyed the nice time to walk around and just let his shoulders sink down and relax a little. 

All of that was interrupted far too soon by a loud “FUCK ME!” coming from within the woods, scaring birds out of their resting places in branches and up into the air. 

Amami jumped in the slightest, speedily turning his attention away from the tranquil nature before him. Amami quickly rushed back to the camp, the faint murmur of buzzing getting louder and louder, mixed in with a bunch of choice curse words from Ouma.

“Shit! Fuck! My crackers, goddamnit!” Amami stepped on a loud tree branch accidentally, catching Ouma’s attention. Ouma snapped his head in Amami’s direction, before smiling at the boy.

“Amami-chan! Stay back! These _unprovoked_ bees want to hurt you! I will defend you!” Ouma picked up a large branch off of the ground and began to swat at the bees left and right, only angering them more.

“Stop trying to hit them! Just walk away for a bit!” Amami yelled, not particularly angry or anything, simply sighing as Ouma spun the branch on his fingers and did elaborate tricks with his branch while stabbing at the bees. It was a comical sight, but shortly after the cruel, branch-attack performed against the bees, Amami noticed one land on his arm for an extended period of time, before falling off. 

Without hesitation, he calmly walked towards the tent, quickly picking up their inflatable kayak to prepare for the amount of time they would have to be away from their campsite in order to make the bees settle. Amami feels like he shouldn’t even have to be doing something to “make the bees settle”.

Amami then grabbed Ouma with his free hand, careful to avoid his mad swinging, and quickly pulled him away from the scene. “Amami-chan, the battle’s not over yet!” Ouma cried, dropping his stick on the ground. Amami let go of Ouma’s shoulder and the two walked side by side. 

“But you took damage!” Amami replied, sticking to the theme of pretending they were in some dramatic video game. Ouma made a confused noise. “No way! Never!” He replied, pounding a hand against his heart.

Amami stopped walking and turned back to Ouma, rolling up his sleeve for him. There was an area of Ouma’s arm that was starting to get red. “Bee sting,” Amami stated. Amami reached into his pocket and pulled out a sting-relief pad, placing it on the area.

“You just carry those things around with you?” Ouma asked, frowning at the pinch of pain he felt. Amami laughed, pressing his long fingers against the pad to keep it in place. “Not normally. This always happens though.”

Ouma quirked his eyebrows and made an odd expression, asking, “Always?”

Amami shrugged, turning back towards the direction of the lake. Over the years of camping, Amami has learned that bees are not his friends, so he’s gotten used to taking care of bee stings. 

Amami heard Ouma quietly mumble, “More walking? Really?”

A thin film of moss and algae coated the upper layer of the lake, cattails jutting out from underneath the surface and thriving in the swampy climate. Amami’s green hair blended in with all of the vegetation and greenery.

“Yuck,” Ouma grumbled when they arrived, a disinterested look upon his face, “this is just a _swamp.”_ Amami chuckled, setting the kayak down and watching the ripples created in the water by just the faintest touch of the kayak. “Once you get out in the water it all goes away,” Amami replied. Once their kayak touched the water, the algae would eventually disperse and make a clear path for them. Amami always found that to be the best part about kayaking, because once the lake was all cleared up, you could see right through it to its shallow bottom, eyes catching on everything from fish to plants to abandoned flip-flops. It was like a hidden puzzle.

“M’kay, so you get in the front, and then help me in,” Amami instructed, pushing on the side of the kayak to ensure it was still inflated well enough. Ouma carefully sat down in the kayak, grimacing at the water beginning to flood his shoes. “You’ll like this. I promise.” Ouma quirked an eyebrow up at Amami’s reassurance. Amami then lowered himself into the boat and used his paddle to push it off land and completely into the water. Ouma picked up his own paddle from the bottom of the boat and smiled at Amami.

“You’re chipper today,” he remarked.

“Just happy to be out of the sun,” Ouma replied. The lake wasn’t particularly out of the way of the sun, but the water was cold and it was getting later in the day, meaning it wasn’t as hot out. 

Not that it was very hot to begin with anyways, but Ouma has trouble staying cool.

“I’m also happy to be spending time with you,” Ouma said in an annoying voice, scrunching up his facial expression as if it pained him to say it. Amami laughed, secretly knowing that Ouma meant it but just wasn’t good at communicating his feelings. 

The only problems would be keeping their movements synchronized with one another’s, and keeping their oars out of the rocky bottom of the lake. Amami was certain Ouma would be good at it, and the both of them wouldn’t end up in the water with a tipped-over kayak.

A string of ripples formed in the places where their kayak had been previously, and Amami slowly started rowing and moving the both of them further out onto the lake. 

“Wait, we’re seriously rowing? I… I thought you were just _kidding,_ ” Ouma sputtered out. 

“What did you think the paddles were for?”

“This,” Ouma quickly pummeled Amami in the chest with the paddle, forcefully knocking him over and onto his back. Amami landed on the soft inflated surface of the of the kayak.

“Oh no, I’ve been shot,” Amami sighed, placing a hand over where Ouma had hit him. Ouma snickered, cheekily grinning as he looked down at Amami helplessly laying on his back. In a swift motion, Amami tightened the grip on his own paddle and gently struck Ouma in the stomach with it, careful to not be too rough. The soft blow didn’t stop Ouma from dramatically gasping and throwing himself into the lake. Ouma sunk underwater, emerging only a moment later with his hair soaked in water and clinging to the sides of his face. 

Ouma gasped, his mouth open in a bit of a hysteric smile, as if he hadn’t processed what had happened. “You _pushed_ me!”

“You rolled in,” Amami stated. 

“You could’ve killed me!”

“I barely hit you.”

“My appendix just burst! Take me to a hospital!” Amami sighed, shaking his head back and forth. Amami took in the way his hair was a lot longer that it seemed, as it stuck to the back of his neck and stayed at about the length of his collarbone. 

“Can I braid your hair later?” Amami asked. Amami had never seen Ouma with his hair in any other style, and he wanted to get a bunch of pictures of him with Dutch braids in. Not for blackmail or anything! He just needed a new lock screen.

“You know how to braid? I guess you really _are_ gay.”

Amami scoffed, crossing his arms against his chest. “Rude!” He also knows how to make acrylic nails and homemade hair pins using nothing but clay and an easy bake oven, but that’s _not important._

“Tell you what, I’ll let you do that only if you jump in here with me!”

“Deal,” Amami replied a bit too quickly. 

Amami stood up on the kayak, not hesitating for a moment as he dove in hands first, water splashing out of the lake and into the air. Ouma scoffed as more water got on his face. Amami emerged from the water and grinned at Ouma with tight lips, as if he were holding in a laugh.

Without warning, Amami stuck his lips out and squirted water all over Ouma.

“Ugh! God, Amami! You're _so_ lucky you’re...!” Amami raised his eyebrows, snickering just a bit. “I'm lucky I'm what?” Amami liked watching Ouma's walls come down. 

Ouma grimaced, screaming out a, “You’re lucky you’re stupid!” He dove under the water and then quickly popped back up, squirting water back in Amami's face as a form of redemption. Amami laughed, and splashed water in Ouma's face, making the boy blink and let out a war cry. 

“I will kill you right in this lake!”

“Water washes away fingerprints so that’s actually—”

Ouma quickly inhaled more water only to spit it at Amami again. “You’re so creepy!” Ouma scrunched his nose up in disgust at Amami. Amami didn’t really care—what a shocker—that Ouma called him creepy, because his extensive knowledge on true crime cases alone is cause for concern. Amami changed the topic of conversation, saying, “Let’s get back on and row a bit more.” Ouma's eyes widened and he set his lip in a pout.

“Just for a little bit. Then we can rest, alright?” Amami smiled at Ouma, and Ouma's shoulders relaxed a bit. The boy shrugged, just happy to be out of the lake because he wasn’t tall enough to touch the bottom so all that treading was starting to hurt his legs. 

Amami got in the kayak first, somehow pulling himself up over the side with minimal effort. With a bit of assistance from Amami, Ouma hoisted himself back up into the kayak as well. Then the two of them got back to rowing. Water droplets still clung to their hair. It was cold, but they didn’t notice one bit. 

Amami found himself doing the majority of the work, and Ouma was only helping out a small amount, (in between dropping the paddle into the water to point at something like a bird or a weird looking tree) but Amami liked spending time with Ouma. He was just happy to be outside, breathing in fresh air and listening to his boyfriend talk about his conversation with a pizza delivery girl. 

Ouma was under the impression that the only reason the two of them were cruising down the lake so well was because of his rowing. After all, he is in the front. That seems like it’s the place where the leader sits. Feeling confident in his newly honed skills, Ouma stood up on the kayak with wobbly legs, a triumphant laugh emerging from him. 

“I’m gonna row like this!” Ouma exclaimed, quickly turning back to look at Amami. Amami wasn’t looking at Ouma, but rather at the side of the boat. 

“Sit down, Ouma.”

“But I’m so—Wait!” Ouma’s sentence was interrupted by a loud cry as the boat flipped over, both of them and all of their belongings smacking the surface of the water. Amami groaned, emerging from the water again. 

“You really wanna go back, huh?” Amami asked. Ouma grinned, taking advantage of Amami’s question to hide that fact that he just flipped their kayak out of sheer clumsiness. Amami fondly sighed, flipping the kayak over and mumbling something about how he was grateful he had gotten an inflatable one. 

Ouma rowed as quickly as he could to get back to their camp this time around. Amami matched his speed, and soon they were back in their tents, using towels and jackets to dry themselves off. 

“Is it getting late?” Amami asked Ouma, slender fingers carding through his dark violet hair in an attempt to smooth it out, before twisting the strands around in little braids. Amami felt Ouma shrug before mumbling, “‘S probably like six.” The red hoodie from earlier comfortably fell from Ouma's shoulders, ripples of fabric going down his arms and chest. They had both gotten into their pajamas a few minutes earlier, Ouma forcing Amami to be at least fifty meters from the tent so he wouldn’t see anything. “If you see how amazing I look without any clothes on, it might make you self conscious!” Ouma had said. 

Amami decided to start cooking something. He finished and tied off Ouma’s twin braids, which he could already tell the smaller boy hated, and lit a fire with some matches from his bag, warm heat swirling around him and making home in the air. Little fireflies emerged from under the wood only to burn off into the sky. He quickly made a shelf with some sticks, almost burning himself in the process. Amami grabbed a pot and some bottles of water from his bag inside the tent. By now, Ouma has wandered out to sit by the fire and occasionally blink the smoke from his eyes. The flames licked at the bottom of the pot as he placed it on the shelf. 

Sure, they’re outside, and they could eat leaves and branches and totally immerse themselves in nature, or they could actually have some sustenance in them. Amami loves nature, and he thinks it’s great to go as natural possible, but he’s still a reasonably guy who doesn’t want to drink unfiltered lake water and then contract cholera. That’s why, as soon as the water had boiled, he started pouring in grains of rice into the pot. While having an inner speech about how rice is very good for camping because it is compact and a lot of it won’t weight much, Ouma inquired, “What’cha makin’?”

“Rice,” Amami answered, stirring the pot with a plastic spoon. 

“Just rice?” Ouma asked, disappointment apparent in his tone of voice. Amami sighed, stopping his mixing to turn towards Ouma. “I’ve got some chocolate bars in the front most pocket of my bag. You can only have one 'cause we need the rest for s'mores, if you still want them.” Ouma happily gasped, bolting into the tent and rummaging through Amami's bag. Amami waited until the rice was done, kneeling by the weak camp fire and smelling smoke and burning wood. Ouma sat next to him, quickly eating his chocolate bar in fear of it melting. 

“Did I bring plates?” Amami pondered aloud. Ouma looked at Amami, swallowing the rest of his chocolate bar before saying, “Does it matter? Let’s just eat straight out of the pot.” Amami went back to the rice, stirring it around for a second before asking, “What would I do without you?” 

Soon, the rice was done, and it wasn’t anything gourmet or fancy, and some grains hadn’t cooked all that well, but Amami was still satisfied. He and Ouma passed the heavy pot of white back and forth, scooping out chunks with the spoon. 

“School starts up soon,” Ouma said, looking at Amami with a grimace on his face, “but I still haven’t done my homework.”

Amami paled, his grip on the spoon loosening. His eyes were blown wide open as he asked, “H...Homework?” Ouma’s lips started to quiver as he tried to hold in his laughter. Amami sighed, handing the pot to Ouma, who greedily scraped at the edges. “Guess we’ll just have to spend the next few days working on it together,” Amami brought up. 

Ouma brought a finger to his mouth and pretended to gag, replying, “I was hoping I would get away from you!”

“Impossible,” Amami lowered his voice to an overly-sultry whisper, “I’m everywhere.” He licked at the edge of Ouma’s ear, earning a horrified shout from the smaller boy. “Oh, that was so gross!” Ouma rolled his sleeve over his hand to wipe at his ear, giving Amami a look of resentment. 

Amami hoped that look meant Ouma was willing to do homework with him. 

As Ouma was getting impatient, he received some marshmallows from his bag and started roasting one on the end of a stick, flames just barely grazing it.  
Amami did the same once he was finished with his rice, sleepily smiling in the warm heat of the fire. Amami shoved his marshmallow-topped stick into the heart of the flames, laughing wildly at Ouma's horrified gasp. “You’re inhuman!” Ouma exclaimed when Amami pulled his marshmallow out, the skin of it charred and blackened. Amami took a bite immediately, making eye contact with Ouma whilst doing so. Ouma pretended to gag, removing his perfectly golden-brown marshmallow from the fire before enclosing it between a hefty amount of chocolate, gummy worms, caramel, and graham crackers. 

“Yanno what I just realized?” Ouma started, “S’mores are just like... candy sandwiches.”

Amami breathed out a, “You always have the best things to say.” Ouma giggled with pride, raising his voice an octave higher and exclaiming, “I know.” Amami leaned closer to Ouma’s face, only an inch or two away from Ouma’s lips. The stars were coming out, Ouma’s skin was glowing, his hair looked adorable—this moment was _perfect._

Ouma’s hand grabbed all of Amami’s face and pushed him away, bringing a strangled noise out of him. 

“Nu-uh! You have to work for it!” Ouma laughed at Amami’s confused expression. Amami remover Ouma’s hand from his face. 

“Last night I didn’t!”

“Last night was the free trial—“

Amami shrugged. “That’s fair.”

“—so that’s why... Wait, you’re agreeing? Just like that?”

“You want us to take things slow. I get it.” If it’s so fun for Ouma to mess with Amami, Amami figured he should try it out too. 

“W-Well wait a minute!” Ouma’s checks pinked at hearing his stutter. 

“Haha. It’s cool. Goodnight, Ouma.” Amami unzipped their tent and crawled inside. He turned on a small lantern next to his sleeping bag, just so Ouma would be able to see his silhouette as he fell onto the ground and pretended to sleep. 

“I wasn’t done talking!”

Amami pretended to snore.

“Amami? Amami! Christ, man. You suck!”

Amami hid a smile in the fabric of his sleeping bag, feeling Ouma sink down next to him and sit on top of his own sleeping bag. Cold feet soon dug into Amami's leg, and he attempted to nudge them away, but they only came back with more force. 

“Ouma, dude, I'm sleeping,” Amami protested. Ouma hummed at that, rubbing his feet on Amami’s legs. Amami blinked at Ouma before, putting his foot on the smaller boy’s stomach. 

“They’re not cold! It doesn’t work that way!” Ouma pointed out. Amami sighed, deciding to lay down and play with a thread poking out of his sleeping bag until Ouma stopped. 

Which didn’t seem to be anytime soon. 

Ouma just kept poking at prodding at him with his feet, and once Ouma got to Amami’s waist he started to laugh because it kinda tickled. “Oh! You’re ticklish! That’s girly,” Ouma chuckled. Amami furrowed his brows at Ouma before lunging towards him and tickling the back of his neck, making Ouma wheeze. 

“Wait! Fuck dude, just chill!” Ouma said in between laughs, missing Amami’s murmur of, “Girly, huh?”

The two of them were reduced to all giggles in their tent. Ouma would place his cold hands on Amami’s waist, and Amami would shout and then start tickling Ouma on the back of his neck. 

“You always keep me on my toes, Amami-chan. It’s kinda hot!” Amami laughed as Ouma’s hands wandered up his back, making small hairs rise and goosebumps appear. Amami still tickled underneath Ouma’s arms and around his shoulders, and somewhere within all of the tumbling and rolling around the tent, Amami was on top of Ouma attacking his stomach with warm hands. 

Ouma pushed Amami’s hand away, laugher still erupting from his throat. Amami grinned down at Ouma, watching the other boy roll his eyes and stick his tongue out. Amami noticed the position they were in and frowned just a bit. 

“We _always_ end up like this,” Amami mentioned, eyes still roaming Ouma’s body, “Say something dumb so I don’t kiss you.” Ouma gave Amami an owlish expression. 

“I have six toes.” Ouma’s eyes widened and he tried to restrain his laughter, looking up at Amami and silently begging him for some help. 

“Six total? Six on one foot? Six on both? Help me out here,” Amami chuckled. Ouma smacked him on the nose, making Amami recoil. “I’m tired, okay?! Let a kid sleep! Geez!” Ouma wiggled out from under Amami and slid into his own sleeping bag. 

“Goodnight!” Amami shouted. Ouma flipped him off without looking back at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> at the part where the bee bee-molishes Ouma’s arm do u know how many bee puns i wanted to make? but i didn’t make them cause they’re speaking in Japanese n it wouldn’t make sense :(
> 
> language borders are unbeelievable


	8. say your stupid line

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ouma and Amami go on their first date. Things go better than expected. They almost die, but still. Better than expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY SO LIFE UPDATE: i am so extremely sorry i have not updated in months :((( I cannot thank you guys enough for your patience!! recently i switched schools because i was really overworked and unhappy at my old one. now i’m at a school where i’m much happier and have way more free time to write!!!!!!!!!!!

Amami woke up to the sound of birds chirping and faint winds rustling tree branches. His eyes opened groggily, and he turned his head to see Ouma’s silhouette doing something outside of the tent. Amami sat upright, unzipped the tent and stepped out, the harsh and bright sunlight making him squint. 

“Gah! A bear!” Ouma snidely remarked. Amami smiled, voice low as he said, “Morning.” 

“When are we leaving this place?” Ouma jumped straight to the point. He had faint bags under his eyes, and a narrow, sleepy gaze. Amami took a deep breath of air in before breathing out, “Anytime you want.” Amami would love to spend the rest of the break here, but he didn’t bring enough stuff for that long, and Ouma seemed impatient to leave. 

“Thank you,” Amami said, fondly smiling at Ouma, eyes filled with appreciation, “for doing this.” Amami gently kissed Ouma on the cheek, leaving as quickly as he came. Ouma’s lips parted and his head tilted to the side in a way that was _far too endearing._

“You’re welcome!” He finally said, the bags under his eyes disappearing with the lift of his cheeks as he grinned. Ouma kept some phrases to himself, such as _I’m never doing this again _, and _I only did this ‘cause you promised food_ , because Ouma didn’t want Amami to think he didn’t have fun.__

__Being attacked by bees? Tipping over a kayak? Getting to take pictures of Amami drooling all over his pillow like a dog while he slept? How could any of those things not be fun?!_ _

__The two of them left shortly after Amami woke up, deciding they would just get take-out at a restaurant nearby that smelled like cigarette smoke and _pain.__ _

__They sat down at a table in the corner of the restaurant, a place that Amami could see as once being homely. The color scheme was in warm reds and oranges, and the lighting in the place was relatively bad, but it made you feel like you were in your own little world. The table was a little sticky, something Amami could only hope was maple syrup or jelly, but he still liked the family-run business ambience of this place._ _

__Ouma hummed, pulling Amami from his train of thought. The boy tapped at a certain spot on the laminated menu that was peeling at the corners before sighing. “Chocolate milk, or orange juice?" Ouma asked. Amami imagined Ouma ordering both and then mixing them together, then downing the whole thing right in front of their waiter._ _

__Amami pondered over the question for a second, absentmindedly looking around the restaurant. Ouma watched him with increasing impatience, and just before he was about to accuse him of dozing off, Amami responded, “Get the chocolate milk.”_ _

__Ouma looked up from the menu and quirked an eyebrow at Amami. "And why do you suggest that?"_ _

__Amami shrugged. “I think it’ll go good with your waffle.”_ _

__When the waiter came by a minute later, Amami asked for a glass of water while Ouma ordered chocolate milk. Amami smirked at that, nudging the boy’s foot with his own from underneath the table. Ouma rolled his eyes, scoffing in the slightest. Since they were ready, they decided to also order their food, Amami getting some simple eggs while Ouma got three Belgian waffles with a copious amount of whipped cream, fresh fruit, and powdered sugar sprinkled on top._ _

__Amami watched the waiter recede back into the kitchen while he drummed his fingers on the table. “So, why did you wanna go out for breakfast today?” Amami inquired, genuine curiosity alight on his face. “We could’ve just stayed home.”_ _

__Ouma’s eyes glittered mischievously, and a cheeky grin formulated on his face. “Home?” He questioned, slightly pushing on the table as he leaned forward to get closer to Amami. The green-eyed boy chuckled, bringing a hand to his mouth. Amami answered, “Whatever, whatever. Look at that; you’ve got me over at your house so much I’m calling it home!”_ _

__Ouma thought for a moment, snickering a little. He was carefully bunching up the wrapper on his straw before taking it off and setting it on the table. Amami found it strange._ _

__“I just wanted some actually cooked food. Not minute-rice in a rusty pot,” Ouma teased, smirking up at Amami. Amami jokingly frowned, pouting, “It’s my lucky camping pot.”_ _

__“How’s it lucky?” Ouma asked, raising his eyebrows with a look of reproach._ _

__“One time I didn’t bring it, and it started raining, and the river we put our tent by flooded. One of my sisters was lost downstream for like, a few hours.” Amami provided this information like it was nothing. To him, it was just another outing with his sisters. Ouma didn’t seem too surprised with this information, and he laughed a little bit._ _

__Ouma decided to change the topic of conversation. “Saihara won’t do my homework for me anymore—“_ _

__“Even after you pretended to have a life-threatening illness?” Amami interrupted._ _

__“Yeah! Can you believe that? He’s heartless.” Ouma dipped his straw in the glass of chocolate milk, and then quickly pulled it out, with chocolate milk still remaining in the straw. “So anyways,” Ouma positioned the straw over the crumbled up straw wrapper and let chocolate milk drip down onto it, “that means I gotta do my own homework if I don’t want detention!” The straw wrapper started to expand and straighten out, looking like a worm._ _

__Amami grinned, explaining, “Pretty sure that’s how school works, dude.”_ _

__“Yeah, okay, thanks mom. Stop interrupting me.” Ouma angrily took a sip of his chocolate milk. Amami didn’t find the action particularly threatening. “So he won’t do my homework anymore, so I gotta do it, but I don’t feel like it. Will you do it for me?”_ _

__“I’ll do it with you, but not for you,” Amami stated._ _

__“Please?”_ _

__“No.”_ _

__“Pretty please?”_ _

__“Hmm...” Ouma’s eyes twinkled, enthusiastically watching Amami tentatively weigh his decision._ _

__“No.”_ _

__Ouma scowled at Amami, sucking the life out of his chocolate milk._ _

__“We can still work on it together,” Amami proposed, reaching for Ouma’s hand across the table. Ouma mumbled a jocular, “Don’t touch me.”_ _

__Shortly after, their orders were brought out to serve as a much needed silence breaker. Ouma didn’t even wait for the waiter to depart before beginning to shove as many pieces of waffle as he could manage into his mouth. Amami was appalled._ _

__“You’re gonna choke,” Amami stated, gently touching Ouma’s arm._ _

__“That’s what makes this fun,” Ouma darkly replied, adding to Amami’s concern. He opted to simply eat his eggs and carefully watch Ouma, who had whipped cream dribbling down his chin, every now and then._ _

__Ouma was almost finished with his waffles when Amami edged a bit closer to Ouma, leaning across the table. He handed Ouma a napkin, which Ouma gratefully accepted. “What if we went on a real date tonight?” Amami proposed. Ouma stopped wiping the excess whipped cream off his face to glance up at Amami._ _

__“A date? With my beloved Amami-chan? I never believed this day would come!” Ouma squealed, his excitement apparent. “Where should we go?” Amami grinned, watching Ouma perk up again and exclaim, “Wait! Could we go to the fair? With the Ferris wheel and stuff?”_ _

__Amami hummed, contemplative. “Okay. Take the car?” Amami thought to himself, _we should probably stop stealing that all the time and get a taxi.__ _

__“Yeah!”_ _

__They finished their breakfast very quickly, the excitement of their later plans making them practically shake with enthusiasm. In regards to how they paid for their meal, Amami’s license number was recorded by the manager, and he agreed to come back tomorrow to pay the bill and bring a tip as well. Ouma apparently didn’t have to do anything._ _

__So he ordered another waffle to-go. The walk back home was one of both defeat and triumph from their respective contenders._ _

__Amami began printing off multiple papers as soon as he arrived back at Ouma’s, frowning at the increasing stack. Ouma laughed and playfully chided him for being so forgetful from somewhere within the kitchen. Once Amami was finished, he and Ouma sat down at a coffee table in the living room, cracking open their backpacks and pencil cases._ _

__A loud groan could be heard from Ouma as he eyed his paper. Amami gently nudged him with his foot from under the table. Ouma nudged back, a bit rougher._ _

__“Dude,” Amami reminded, gesturing towards the math packets sprawled about the table, “you can do this!” Amami knew Ouma didn’t like admitting it, but he was pretty decent in his studies. Ouma did revel in the childish satisfaction of getting a good grade._ _

__“Duh! I’m just groaning for your sake! My poor Amami-chan, so stupid, this might burst your brain...” Amami didn’t reply, and clicked the end of his pencil to push out more graphite, beginning the first problem. Ouma scoffed, small lips morphed into an odd expression. “Are you ignoring me?” He asked, to which Amami did not respond. Ouma began to quickly suck in pathetic breaths to make it seem as if he were sobbing. Amami tried to hide his grin, but he was certain it was obvious._ _

__“Woe is me; my lover hates me!” Ouma cried, dramatically wiping at tiny tears forming in the corners of his eyes._ _

__“No crocodile tears! You promised!” Amami beamed, setting his hands on the table. Ouma waved him off with a vague hand-sweep. “Yeah, yeah, on that night you interrogated me in the freezer...” Ouma’s voice was not serious at all, but Amami felt his face pink at Ouma bringing it back up._ _

___"You understand, right? If there was an easy way to get anything, you'd do it too, right?"_ _ _

__Amami sighed, still not understanding what Ouma had meant by that. In time, hopefully, he will._ _

__“I’m sorry about that, by the way. Really,” Amami fretted._ _

__“I can forgive, Amami-chan, but I will never forget.” Ouma whispered; giving Amami a disappointed look that gripped his heart maliciously, before grinning happily at Amami. Ouma began working on his homework, leaving Amami to blink at his figure before hesitantly smiling and going back to his own work._ _

__In the span of two hours they only got about two pages done before their attention was directed elsewhere. Ouma found it was more fun to fold and crumble up the papers and see how far he could throw them than it was so actually complete them._ _

__“Ouma, cut it out,” Amami said, a bit irritated after a paper ball hit him unceremoniously in the face._ _

__Ouma grinned. “Did I get you mad?” He sounded smug and childish, which would make Amami laugh at any other time except this one. He really just wanted to get this work over with as soon as possible. His grades were already pretty bad since he rarely ever did his homework, as he always instead opted for hanging out with Ouma (who also does not do his homework) and hotboxing his dorm._ _

__“If you can finish this packet in an hour, I’ll get you whatever you want tonight at the fair.”_ _

__Ouma’s eyebrows went up a bit in shock, and his lips were formed in an “o”. “Okay,” he merely said._ _

__“Okay.”_ _

__Ouma blew through the packet in fifteen minutes, pencil scratching manically. He started on another one for a different class, but not before proposing, “If I can complete this within an hour, you should totally buy me candy.”_ _

__Amami observed the density of what Ouma was holding. It looked too big to even be completed in one day, much less an hour._ _

__“Deal.”_ _

__Once again, finished the thing in fifteen minutes. Amami could feel his wallet _drying._ _ _

__Four tiring and maddening hours later, Amami was finally finished. He felt satisfied with his work, and he stretched his arms up over his head, working out the tight muscles. Ouma had been finished for two hours, so he was cleaning his starfish’s tank upstairs. Ouma took good care of his starfish, but he still insisted that he fed it pizza and the like, because having a starfish that consumes only junk food is way cooler than having one that eats _boring, uncool, stupid mollusks.__ _

__Both content, Amami listened to Ouma play a PvP video game, while also taking a quick snooze on Ouma’s couch, falling asleep to the boy’s various exclamations of confusion or excitement. At around six, Amami called a cab, and Ouma was jumping up and down with excitement in his black sneakers._ _

__“I’m so pumped! We’re gonna eat so much sugary stuff, and then we’ll go on the Ferris wheel and _make out—“__ _

__“Don’t get ahead of yourself there,” Amami joked, opening the front door so Ouma could step out. He found himself a bit flustered from Ouma’s previous sentence._ _

__They got in the taxi and rode in a comfortable silence, Ouma only occasionally speaking up to point something out to Amami or to make a joke. Amami wished he would do it even more, reveling in the older boy’s thoughts, but the driver began to get quietly annoyed at the commentating, making Ouma quiet down for the remaining duration of the drive. The sun was setting outside, making the sky a beautiful blend of pink and orange, with delicate and feathery flecks of clouds dotted along the atmosphere, and some cheesy pop music was playing on the car’s radio with lyrics so blunt or tactless the boys would both find themselves holding in giggles._ _

__Tonight would be awesome. They were both sure of it._ _

__When they got to the fair, it took all of Amami’s strength to prevent Ouma from just busting through the gates and demanding for a cotton candy swirl with chocolate flakes at the nearest ice cream stand._ _

__“Tickets, we have to get tickets,” Amami reminded, restraining Ouma in his arms. Ouma rolled his eyes at this, loosening up and begrudgingly following Amami to the ticket counter. He stood by his side, impatiently tapping his foot and eyeing the ice cream stand like it was the most attractive thing he had ever laid eyes on. Amami briefly interrupted Ouma in his reverie by saying, “We’ll go there first, m’kay? We can walk around and eat it.” Amami turned back to the ticket counter, completing the transaction and then taking Ouma’s hand in his._ _

__Ouma wasted no time practically dragging Amami through the gates and to the ice cream stand, ordering what he wanted before pausing and turning to Amami._ _

__“You’re not gonna get anything?” Ouma inquired._ _

__Amami pulled his phone out from his back pocket, taking off the case and pulling enough money to pay for Ouma’s ice cream out of it, while replying, “Didn’t plan on it, no. I’m not the biggest fan of sweets.”_ _

__“What?! Amami-chan, how can this be?” Ouma cried, mouth agape._ _

__Amami took the ice cream from the vendor, giving a quick thanks before turning back to Ouma and so intelligently saying, “Just don’t like ‘em.” He handed Ouma his ice cream, appreciative of the copious amounts of napkins wrapped around the cone. Those would definitely be needed._ _

__"But you like me, don't you?" Ouma asked, cheekily. Amami's lips cracked upwards in a smile as he replied, "Don't ask questions you already know the answer to."_ _

__The two began their journey around the fair’s location, taking in the gentle breeze and jubilation that managed to seep out of everyone there. What joy, what elation, what infectious energy was palpable in the air! When Amami remembered that this was him and Ouma’s _first date_ the happiness doubled._ _

__Amami obediently followed beside Ouma, listening to him pensively ramble on about what to do. The fair was filled with so many different games and rides, and there was a lovely ambience to all of it. Stuffed animals dangled from the top of game stands and booths, and excited screams could be heard from some of the faster rides, while sweet moments were shared on the slower ones._ _

__“I’m afraid we’re too old for most of the rides here, Ouma.” The boy nodded his head to that._ _

__“Then let’s win some shit,” Ouma stated, determination in every bit of his words. The two boys played multiple games at different stands, throwing pointed darts at balloons and trying to hook small rings on bottles too large to hold them, smiles high on their faces and love warm in their hearts. The time passed by quickly._ _

__Once finished with one more cheesy game, Ouma was tugging Amami around again, his tiny hand wrapped around Amami’s wrist. They halted a few meters in front of a game stand in which, to win a prize, you had to shoot a small plush fruit into a basket. Doing this properly once would get you a small, two times would get you a medium, and three, a large. It seemed simple enough, as long as you disregarded the fact that the basket was rapidly moving in all directions, up, down, back, and forth. There was no pattern to it either, it just kinda... _did whatever.__ _

__Ouma lowered his voice down to a whisper and got close to Amami, a visage of mischief present on his pale face. Amami’s heart pounded at the close proximity and the defiant smirk on his boyfriend’s face._ _

__“Here’s the plan:,” Ouma began to explain, “you are going to go over to the stand and get your fruits or whatever in one minute, exactly one. As soon as you lift up your arm to throw one, I’ll cut the power—don’t make that face, hear me out—I’ll cut the power and at the same time distract the dude running it. Throw at least three in as fast as you can. Then I’ll bring the power back on and you’ll act like nothing happened. Get me the big, off-white doggy, please, and then I’ll meet up at the haunted house. Is that okay with you?”_ _

__Amami took a moment to process all Ouma was saying. He quickly replied, “Alright, I trust you,” while taking Ouma’s ice cream from his hands, thinking it would be better off with him for the moment. Pink-cheeked Ouma gave Amami a soft smile, placing a kiss on his cheek before dashing off and shouting back, “One minute! Remember!” Amami smiled, watching Ouma disappear behind the fruit basket game, counting _one, two, three, four...__ _

__By the time sixty came around Amami was speedy on his cue, placing money on the counter of the game and asking for five fruits to throw. Amami felt eyes on him and hoped they were Ouma’s kind wisteria ones. He smiled at the game’s worker, retracted his arm as if to throw, and threw the fruit into the basket right as the game’s lights shut off and the basket stopped moving. Ouma began to distract the worker, asking him where a certain place was._ _

__Amami attempted to throw another fruit into the basket, but this one missed. The one after that slipped from his hand for a split second, tumbling away in the grass, but Amami grabbed it just in time to throw it and land it. The one he thre after that bounced off the rim of the basket and pathetically landed on the ground. Taking in a deep breath, he threw the last piece of fruit, proudly exhaling as it hit the basket. Amami glanced at Ouma, lips sucked in as he tried to hold in his guffaws and giggles._ _

__Ouma thanked the worker he was talking to and swiftly sprinted away, just in time to get the power back on before the man noticed anything. Amami feigned shock at the amount of fruits he landed in the basket, and the worker, shocked as well, handed him the cream-colored dog. Placing it atop his shoulders, he walked in the direction of the haunted house, sitting on a bench just outside it as he waited for Ouma._ _

__Soon, Ouma sat down next to him, happily taking the ice cream from Amami with one hand and gently placing the other on the boy’s chin, giving him a long and fluid kiss as a reward. Amami’s heart fluttered and danced in his chest._ _

__“Thank you,” Ouma murmured, a tender smile on his lips, “my beloved Amami-chan. You’re too good for me.” Amami’s cheeks flushed red, and once again his heart stammered behind his rib cage._ _

__Amami wasn’t able to interject and tell Ouma how beautiful he was, and how he should give himself more credit, because Ouma was pulling him up from the bench and eagerly saying, “Come on! Let’s get some stuff to eat. You must be hungry.”_ _

__Amami and Ouma decided to get a small basket of fries to share, along with a box of gummy candy for Ouma. They sat at a picnic table underneath a tall tree, chatting about insignificant things, like if the florist across from Hope’s Peak had gone out of business, and how birds identify each other even though they look similar. The sun began to set, painting Ouma in fluffy tangerine and pink colors. Amami thought he looked amazing. With some stray fry crumbs on his lips, which he wiped off with his wrist, Ouma asked, “Ferris wheel?” Amami nodded his head in affirmation, holding Ouma’s hand as they walked off in the direction of their destination._ _

__The Ferris wheel’s lights dimly danced in patterns, just barely seen in the light that was still present. Ouma watched as the scaffolding twirled around and around, taking the multicolored carts with it. It looked a bit old and worn down, and the carts lightly swayed with the wind, creaking occasionally, but there was something homely about it._ _

__“Someone’s probably had sex on one of these,” Ouma blankly stated._ _

__“Every word that comes out of your mouth is like _poetry.”_ Ouma grinned at Amami’s joke, stepping in line and eagerly bouncing on the balls of his feet, unable to keep still._ _

__They waited in line for a bit, watching the sun set on the horizon. The fair had quieted down a bit, and most people were heading home. Soon, Amami and Ouma boarded their cart, closing the door behind them and sitting next to each other on one of the benches. The cart was closed off, but Amami could still feel the wind and hear the outside noise, as there were small gaps in a mesh-like lattice of steel that allowed air to get through. The cart lurched upwards, stopping for a moment so another group of passengers could board their cart. This happened multiple times until the ride finally started to slowly spin. Amami placed Ouma’s stuffed dog on his lap, absentmindedly ruffling the ears._ _

__The two boys looked out the windows behind them, gazing at the dazzling sunset and the games, stands, and rides sprinkled about the fair. The clouds in the sky were a pretty pink, and delicate shades of violet and lavender took over the sky. It reminded Amami of the boy sitting next to him, quietly lacing his fingers in between the gaps in the window._ _

__Amami turned his head to kiss Ouma on the forehead, but a gust of wind rattled the cart, distracting Amami and making Ouma’s eyebrows raise in the slightest. When Amami leaned in to go for the kiss again, Ouma stood up, completely unaware of his boyfriend’s affectionate attempts to kiss him._ _

__“Dude, I got a sick idea,” Ouma grinned. Amami felt a bit nervous as to what that may be, but silently gestured for Ouma to continue explaining. Suddenly, Ouma slammed his body into the wall opposite Amami, laughing as the cart rattled and shook._ _

__“Ouma! Don’t do that!” Amami pleaded, chucking a bit as the cart continued to shake. Ouma turned back to face him with a satisfied and smug smile on his face. “Alright, I’ll cut it out. Anything for—”_ _

__The cart suddenly angled downwards, the side without the door sloping towards the ground. A loud boom and clatter could be heard, along with various exclamations of shock and fear from those on the ride and in the area._ _

__“Shit!” Ouma shouted, losing his footing and sliding into the wall closest to the ground, back pressed up against a large window. All color left his face in a burst of fear. The wind tickled his back, and his heart hammered in his chest. Amami kept a tight hold of the bench he was sitting on, trying not to slip downward. He quickly made a plan, asking Ouma to quickly bounce off the wall and sit on the bench across from Amami. Ouma did so, knuckles white from holding on so tightly._ _

__“Are you hurt?” Amami asked, his voice loud and filled with concern, eyes raking over Ouma’s body. He yearned to touch the boy and hold him tightly, but putting too much weight on one side may cause the various other bolts securing the cart to the scaffolding to loosen. Amami would rather hold Ouma in one piece. Ouma shook his head, nervously chuckling. They both looked like they had both seen a ghost, but soon they calmed down._ _

__“You _literally_ broke the ride,” Amami said with a smile, trying to lighten the situation. The Ferris wheel continued to spin around slowly, but due to the clamor coming through the windows, Amami could tell he and Ouma’s cart would be lowered to ground level soon. _ _

__Ouma laughed straight from his belly, looking down at the unsecured section of the cart, then back at Amami, with wild and youthful eyes. Amami quickly found himself laughing alongside the boy, half out of fear, and half out of the realization that only Ouma could do something so _stupid.__ _

__When they got close to the ground the ride stopped, and with some assistance from a few employees, the two boys were hoisted out of the cart, grins high on their reddened faces. They watched from afar as numerous employees worked on temporarily fastening the cart back to its original place, because that was the only way the Ferris wheel would be able to whirl around again uninterrupted by a cart scraping against the ground. Ouma sweetly apologized to all the employees as soon as he got out of the cart, blaming the detachment on the wind, and batting his eyelashes while he did so. They seemed convinced, resolving to shut down the ride after all other passengers were let off._ _

__Amami handed Ouma his plush dog back, ruffling his hair. “Honestly, that has to be enough adventure for today,” Amami chuckled, wrapping an arm around Ouma and leading him in the direction of the front of the park. Ouma had already whipped out his phone and was finding a cab._ _

__“I’m gonna go home and take a fat _nap._ You know, on a _real_ bed,” Ouma admitted, yawning and relaxing his shoulders. _ _

__“I guess I’ll spend the night?” Amami asked, not really meaning to turn the sentence into a question._ _

__“Of course,” Ouma replied, “but I’ll fall asleep right away. Protecting yourself from assassins can get _so_ tiring.”_ _

__Amami went with the joke. “When did you do that?”_ _

__“All day,” Ouma exclaimed, quite loudly. He leaned close to Amami, still looking straight ahead, and whispered, “Did you see how that girl just eyed me? She’s definitely a spy. We should move quickly; the world would collapse if I were to die.”_ _

__Amami couldn’t argue. You didn’t have to be dating Ouma to recognize how important he was. Amami had spent so many years with him, and made so many memories in the process. Others at school disapproved of Ouma’s antics, but on days when Ouma would fake an illness to stay home, Amami could see their boredom. Many people depended on Ouma. Most of them didn’t even know so._ _

__“You’re cute,” Amami finally said._ _

__“I’ll break your kneecaps.”_ _

__“That’s hot.”_ _

___”I know.”_ _ _

__Soon their walk was over, and they patiently waited in the fair’s parking lot for their car, Ouma tapping his foot and humming a song. Once their car arrived, the two boys hurriedly got inside, a cozy feeling of warmth and happiness nesting within their chests._ _

__Their first date! And it had gone mostly pretty well! No one died! Amami was content._ _

__Ouma immediately took a short nap, placing his stuffed dog between the window and the side of his head to serve as a pillow. Amami looked out the window at all of the passing buildings and trees, occasionally sneaking a glance at Ouma to chuckle at his relaxed expression. His face was almost always contorted into some funny shape; it was weird to see him so placid._ _

__The passing blur of the town the fair was in took them home, and Amami found himself slipping Ouma’s stuffed dog out of its trap, and snaking one hand under Ouma’s thighs and the other under his back to pick him up and out of the car. He paid the driver the necessary fees and more, bidding them farewell before rushing inside and quietly placing Ouma down on his bed, tucked snugly underneath the blankets. Amami pressed a sweet kiss to Ouma’s forehead, feeling a bit cheesy, and then moved to leave._ _

__“Where are you going?” Ouma asked, voice tired and groggy. Amami turned back to him, head cocked slightly to the side in confusion. “The couch, of course. It’s where I always sleep when I spend the night,” Amami reminded. _Has he been awake this whole time?_ the green eyed wondered. _ _

__Ouma lightly shook his head, scooting over a bit before replying, “Not this time. Come on.”_ _

__Amami hesitated, face flushed with rose. Even when he spent the night here before, Ouma would sleep in his bed and Amami took the couch. Amami didn’t really mind, since he knew Ouma had problems sleeping, and he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep unless he was moderately comfortable._ _

__“You won’t be comfy if I’m in there with you. I might crush you.” This was a legitimate concern. Amami felt huge compared to Ouma, who was so lithe and fragile. The last thing Amami would ever want to do is hurt Ouma. He didn’t want to hurt anyone, but Ouma especially._ _

__“I’d like to see you try. I’m stronger than you think.”_ _

__Amami pulled back a bit of the blankets Ouma was under, slipping inside while saying, “Right, right. How could I ever forget that?”_ _

__“Dunno. You’re stupid.” Ouma nuzzled closed to Amami, and soon his nose was pressed into the others chest, moving with the gentle rise and fall. Amami’s lissome arms wrapped around Ouma’s form, fingers playing with the tips of his hair and rubbing circles into his back. Ouma sighed, moving impossibly closer._ _

__“Tell anyone about this, and I’ll rip your dick off,” Ouma muttered._ _

__Amami smiled. “Thank you for going out with me today. I really wanna do that again soon.”_ _

__“Shh... I’m sleeping...” Ouma dramatically whispered._ _

__“Oh, right. Goodnight, Ouma.”_ _

__“Goodnight, my beloved Amami-chan.”_ _


	9. missing someone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amami spends a day finishing his homework, and Ouma struggles to cope with the distance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another late ass chapter? you fuckin bet mate

“It’s way too bright... Hey, Amami-chan, would you be a _doll_ and shut the blinds?” Ouma lazily asked, face down on his pillow. Amami had already awoken a few hours ago, ready to grab the day by its reigns before the sun even rose.

Ouma did not feel the same, and although he would follow Amami to the end of the world and back without any hesitation, he wouldn’t do it before twelve in the afternoon.

The sweet scent of cinnamon and green tea swirled through the air, potent in the cramped space of Ouma’s bedroom. Amami sat in Ouma’s desk chair, reading a book, and occasionally taking a sip of tea or curiously checking his phone.

“Amami,” Ouma whined, impatiently rolling a bit under the blankets.

“One second, sorry,” Amami responded, squinting his eyes down at his phone before typing out a reply with one hand, making an awkward face as he did so. Ouma impatiently sprung up from the bed to glare at Amami. He noticed the boy’s peculiar expression and asked, “What’s wrong?” Ouma figured since he was already awake, due to Amami’s inability to follow instructions, he might as well close the blinds himself. He stretched his arms over his head, muscles straining.

“Oh, well, it’s a little embarrassing...” Amami admitted, “Kaede and I scheduled to work on a group project today—the one for history class—and I completely forgot about it. I’ll basically be gone the whole day.”

Ouma frowned at this, the light leaving the room as he quietly closed the blinds with tiny hands. He put on a big grin and exclaimed, “That’s fine! You’re kinda boring me here anyways.”

 _”Mhm,”_ Amami disbelievingly said. Amami didn’t think he was all that interesting of a person to be around, but he knew that if he was boring Ouma, the boy would’ve brought it to his attention by now.

“What time you leaving?”

“Eleven at the latest.” Ouma glanced at the clock. 10:47.

Amami noticed the traces of poorly-concealed disappointment on Ouma’s face, set the book he was reading down, and arose from the chair to place both of his hands on Ouma’s shoulders. “Why didn’t you wake me up earlier?” Ouma asked him, running his fingers along his biceps. The flecks of sun that cracked through the blinds glowed on his skin. For a second, Amami considered cancelling on Kaede, but he didn’t want to bring her grade down.

“Yes, because I know how much you _adore_ waking up bright and early. You looked so peaceful sleeping there... I just didn’t wanna,” Amami defended. Ouma rolled his eyes.

“Such a gentleman!” Ouma balanced on his tiptoes, legs slightly shaking as he tried to stretch himself upward. Amami got the hint, leaning down just a bit and kissing Ouma softly.

Amami didn’t want to go, but he figured it was wise to leave as soon as possible, before Ouma started looking even more disappointed. “I’m gonna head out,” he hummed, turning around quickly, grabbing his phone on the way out. He made his way down the stairs and had his hand on the doorknob when he stopped to call out to Ouma!

“I’ll miss you!” He hollered up the stairs.

Ouma smirked, flopping back onto his bed and looking up at the ceiling. “I bet you will!” He heard the door gently shut.

 _What now?_ he thought to himself. Ouma just laid there, absentmindedly playing with the hem of a blanket. He hadn’t planned on being alone for the day, but that didn’t mean he was going to let it go to waste. Ouma got out of bed and picked up the book Amami had discarded on the desk.

Ouma wasn’t too partial to reading, because it was so hard to sit still and keep focus, but for some reason, he wanted to read this book. Maybe it was the enticing cover that drew him in, or maybe it was Amami’s contagious heat lingering on the book’s spine. Whatever it was, it prompted him to begin reading the first page, lavender eyes slowly taking in everything contained within.

The book was about the French Revolution, written in archaic language Ouma struggled to decipher. _Amami-chan can read this?_ Ouma wondered. “What the fuck,” he said aloud.

Amami was supposed to be _stupid._ This wasn’t allowed.

He wanted to put the book down, because it was stupid, but it _mocked_ him, and that was unacceptable. The book was asking for a fight, dangling those elaborate words above Ouma’s head. Ouma intended to read the whole thing, and then go tell Charles Dickens’ ghost to _eat his ass_.

After reading the first three chapters, Ouma still had no _fucking_ idea what the fuck was going on. It angered him! The fact that someone could create something more secretive, more alluring, more complex than he could frankly pissed him off! He pushed forward with new resolve, reading but not comprehending most of the book’s intricacies. All that mattered was that he finished it.

Three hours and lots of confused expressions and changed sitting positions later, Ouma felt as though he was finally getting the hang of things. The storyline was relatively interesting, and the only thing that made Ouma hesitate to turn the page was the fact that it was a _book_ , and Ouma was still having trouble seeing himself as someone who reads books for leisure and enjoyment. He certainly wasn’t this person in the past.

Amid another internal battle on whether to keep reading, Ouma’s phone vibrated on the desk, slightly making him jump.

 **Amami, 3:43 PM:** Hey baby Ouma, 3:43 PM: why is the heart broken :’(((((

 **Amami, 3:45 PM:** Is it? Never even noticed  <3 That better?

 **Ouma, 3:46 PM:** ty :P

 _Six... Okay, I can read until six,_ Ouma thought. He wasn’t going to _tell_ Amami he was reading for half the day, because that’s weird. He’ll just make up some lie like he always does, like that he’s at a strip club or that he was kidnapped and held for ransom but escaped using his exemplary combat skills.

Two hours of restless boredom later, Ouma got another text. He grabbed his phone with urgency and a quick movement of his hand.

 **Amami, 6:16 PM:** We accidentally played club penguin a lil too much Im sorry................... See u at 7? We’re almost done I promise

Ouma sighed, looking at his phone with disappointment. Club penguin was Ouma and Amami’s _thing_. He felt a jealous rattlesnake coil in his stomach. Ouma was _so_ gonna yell at him when he got home. Sure, it was only one more hour, but Ouma felt like waiting was so impossible.

 **Ouma, 6:17 PM:** ok :( i’ll get a pizza

 **Amami, 6:17 PM:** -3- My hero

Ouma took a brief break to order the pizza, obviously ordering it online, because _like hell he’s calling in._ He just hoped Amami would be back in time to get the pizza at the door, because he didn’t want to open it.

The hands on the clock spun and spun and spun, each second making an increasingly obnoxious ticking noise, and with each tick there was no Amami. Ouma hoped he was alright and at least enjoying himself, because he knew that once he got back to Ouma’s place he would feel guilty for being gone so long.

Ouma would never admit he wished the best and only that for Amami, even though it was the truth. He’s never been good with genuine expression. Opening up to another person like a flower is hard when the season isn’t right and global warming just keeps fucking up the weather all the time.

Another grueling book chapter later, Ouma answered the door by himself, first attempting to slip the money underneath the door, then opening it just a bit and poking the money through the side. The deliverer left the pizza on the doorstep, heeding Ouma’s request, and drove off in their rusty car, loud music blaring and vibrating the windows.

When he came back to his room, he saw another text.

 **Amami, 7:11 PM:** Hey dude we kinda watched all of Nyan~ Neko Sugar Girls twice and didn’t write our summaries... doing that right now :) Will be back at 8 I miss ur cute face!

Ouma didn’t bother replying, angrily biting into a slice of pizza and hoping Amami would take the hint that he’s kind of pissed but he’s also not going to show it. Ouma placed the book and the pizza on the desk, its hard cover thumping against the polished wood, and he sighed.

He was going to go to bed. He wasn’t in a pizza mood anyways. 

Going to bed was the biggest possible “fuck you” he could give to Amami. Ouma loves him and all, but since he’s mad right now, all his feelings are out the window, down the drain, and into the ocean of discarded emotion. He got into his pajamas and threw himself under the covers, smirking slightly.

Amami would be so upset. He’d be in tears, sobbing at the foot of Ouma’s bed, like a prince who failed to kiss the princess back to life. Serves him right for playing Club Penguin without Ouma!

“What are you smiling about?”

Ouma shrieked, bolting up from under the covers and glaring at the person talking.

“What the _fuck_ Amami?!”

Amami laughed, sitting at the foot of Ouma’s bed, smiling instead of crying, rosy cheeks instead of watered down ones. “Why were you in bed?” Amami asked. Ouma rolled his eyes, getting out of bed and walking back over to the desk, forcing himself to put distance between him and Amami.

“I was tired of your _bullshit_ ,” Ouma replied. He internally commended himself for thinking of that on the spot. Amami frowned, turning more towards Ouma. Ouma’s hand twitched at his side, and he grimaced. “So you laid in bed for, what, ten minutes just to make a point? Knowing how easily you get bored, that must’ve been kinda hard. I’m real sorry, Ouma,” Amami apologized, running his hands through his hair nervously.

Ouma thought he was immune to everything. He’s not allergic to anything. He’s never been arrested. He’s put a bee in a freezer before, and he didn’t get stung once. He’s never truly been brought down so much he couldn’t get back up again; he’s always persevered. But as it turns out, he’s not immune to Amami’s charm, or his nervous smile, or his weird way of phrasing things.

Damn it. Ouma’s finally met his maker.

Ouma crossed his arms over his chest, hesitating in his response even though he very well knew the answer. He said, “You’re forgiven. I’m bored of this conversation. Let’s go play games!”

“Yes, I think you deserve that,” Amami agreed, his face lighting up, as if a curtain in front of it had been swiftly parted. Ouma reveled in the boy’s smile. He’d chastise himself for doing that later, if he felt up to it. Amami left the room, heading for the living room, and Ouma grabbed the book from earlier (for bragging purposes, of course) before following suit.

\---

Amami sat on the couch in Ouma’s living room, grasping the controller firmly in his hands, nervous sweat and pizza grease sticking to his palms. Ouma was quietly reading the book from earlier at Amami’s side, occasionally smiling down at the pages or distractedly fiddling with the loose threads jutting out from the bottom of the spine.

“You like the book?” Amami asked, nudging Ouma in the shin with his knee.

“It’s alright. It’s better than the fanfiction Shirogane wrote of us.”

Amami laughed, recalling the work in question, losing his focus on the game. “She wrote that out of pure _hatred._ If I ever get my memory erased, that is the one thing I will be happy about forgetting.”

Ouma grinned, closing the book and placing it on the coffee table in front of the couch, jocularly pouting, “I really can’t believe she killed us off in the end! How rude!” Amami lightheartedly shook his head, recalling how the voluminous fanfiction went, with him and Ouma walking to school and then getting hit by a giant, flaming meteor. It was oddly violent and alarmed the two boys quite a bit. That didn’t mean they couldn’t meme it though.

Ouma continued, “You’d have to be crazy to write fanfiction of any sort about us!” Amami smirked, rolling his eyes.

Amami felt oddly content at that moment, and wrapped his left arm around Ouma’s shoulders, right hand still holding onto the game controller. Ouma pulled back a bit at this, left hand instinctually flying to the other half of the game controller.

“Here, I’ll help you out, since you wanna be _stupid._ ” Amami shrugged a bit at that, not really caring about the game he was playing anymore. The enemies were too hard.

“How are we gonna do this?” Amami asked, looking down at the controller they were both holding.

“I’m controlling movement, you’re controlling actions and camera angles.”

“Oh. Shit.”

“I’d take over, but I’m afraid it would make you jealous of my skill,” Ouma teased, bumping his knee into Amami’s and pressing their thighs together in the process. Amami bumped Ouma’s knee with his in return.

They ended up losing all the fights they engaged in after that. It was an absolute garbage fire. Ouma kept barking at Amami to hit certain buttons, and Amami kept laughing with his eyes closed and not focusing on the game. There was no better way the night could have been spent. Amami missed Ouma just as much as Ouma missed him, and these antics made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside, erasing his earlier disappointment at being away from his best friend and boyfriend.

Best friend and boyfriend. Amami’s glad it worked out that way. He knows Ouma is glad too.


	10. coolest kids

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After laying low and not doing anything particularly incriminating, Amami and Ouma get back into business.

Amami ended up going home late that night after receiving a text from one of his stepsisters. It was not anything dire, she was just having trouble writing an email to her teacher. Concerned as to why she was doing this at midnight, Amami decided to head home to make sure she was not destroying herself over whatever she needed assistance with.

“I’ll text you, m’kay?” That’s what Amami promised. Ouma had eagerly nodded his head, and Amami, the benevolent soul he is, was out the door before Ouma could shout “Call me instead!” Ouma loved Amami’s voice, and whenever he received a text from the boy he would always hear him saying the words in that gentle drawl of his. Imagining it did not compare to hearing it over the phone though. It was one of Ouma’s guilty pleasures, along with shojou manga and dating simulators.

As soon as Amami had left, Ouma had fallen asleep on the couch. A few hours later, he woke up to a ping from his phone, the bright screen pulling him from his sleep. He groggily opened his eyes and looked down at the ground, where his phone lay.

Amami, 2:23 AM: Ily

Aw hell yeah, Ouma thought, grinning from ear to ear, heat flooding his cheeks.

Ouma, 2:23 AM: thatss… fuckgin Gay

He had never responded well to romance anyways.

Amami, 2:23 AM: Fuck… u just might be right…

Ouma, 2:23 AM: i’m always right but go off

Amami, 2:23 AM: Fair point, wyd

Ouma had always given Amami the same old response to that question, yet Amami still asked him it! A fool never learns!

Ouma typed out the usual message, with necessary emojis.

Ouma, 2:24 AM: thinkin about you babe ❤️❤️❤️

Amami, 2:24 AM: SAME!!! We r soul sisters

Ouma chuckled. Amami-chan can be such a weirdo sometimes, he thought.

Ouma, 2:24 AM: hahaha, i’m doing nothing, wbu?

Amami, 2:24 AM: Oh haha I’m laying in bed

Ouma, 2:24 AM: wow you’re so interesting!11!1!!!

Amami, 2:24 AM: Ikr!

Just then, Ouma had a revolutionary idea of what to say. Amami had woken him up from a peaceful slumber, and for that he must pay! Quickly, Ouma sent out the first message essential to commence his plan: Operation Get Amami Flustered and/or Annoy Him to Death.

Ouma, 2:24 AM: what would you do if i was there with you ;P

He’s gonna sext Amami. He knows Amami is unfamiliar with things of this caliber, and he’s ready to freak the poor kid out for his own entertainment. Amami will be able to look back on this in the future and laugh—Ouma’s sure of it!

Amami, 2:24 AM: Uh

Amami, 2:24 AM: Was that a sext? Are we sexting now

Ouma scoffed, rolling his eyes and sending out his next message impatiently.

Ouma, 2:25 AM: YES DUMBASS

Amami, 2:25 AM: I’d kiss you I guess idk?

Ouma, 2:25 AM: :3c Amami-chan you’re so pure lol

Ouma, 2:25 AM: i’d fuckin start to makeout with you and pull on your hair

Amami, 2:26 AM: thumbs up

Ouma sat in silence for a few seconds, taking in Amami’s ever so eloquent reply.

Ouma, 2:26 AM: that’s not how you respond but okay

Amami, 2:26 AM: How else do I respond? I’m new to all this

Ouma, 2:26 AM: i haven’t done this before either i just know you don’t reply with a FUCKING THUMBS UP

Amami, 2:26 AM: I’m sorry let me try again ok?

Ouma could not help but smile at that; Amami only wanted to please him and make him happy! Ouma felt his heart melt in his chest and turn into a vermillion liquid.

Ouma, 2:27 AM: idk if i should give you a second chance buddy you fucked up pretty bad

Amami, 2:28 AM: I’d put my hand over your dick and get you off through your pants

Oh. Well that’s actually kinda hot, Ouma thought, shit How in the world should he reply to that? He’s never sexted before; he’s got no clue what to say! After some careful deliberation, he made his move.

Ouma, 2:28 AM: thumbs up!

It was perfect. Within only a few seconds, a reply from Amami pinged in.

Amami, 2:28 AM: Mkay going 2 bed bye

Ouma started to cackle. He could practically see the disappointment on Amami’s face! It looked hot on him! Ouma’s small hands flew up to his mouth to quiet his loud laughter, imagining a seething Amami slamming his phone down and angrily going to bed.

Amami should have seen this coming. Ouma would hate to make him mad, but in the sake of a little joke, he had to! He knows in the back of his mind Amami isn’t as pissed as he imagines, and this will all wear off the moment they next speak. Ouma decided to type out one last reply before going to bed himself.

Ouma, 2:28 AM: no babe come back!!! i’m hard your message got me hard

Ouma was in fucking tears. Holy shit he cracks himself up.

The next day, Amami came over to Ouma’s once again. Ouma’s certain the neighbors believe he lives there, given how often he can be seen playing video games with Ouma or walking around the neighborhood. Someday, once Ouma and Amami graduate, they would get a quaint apartment together, one with vast windows and cozy blankets thrown over the backs of plush couches. There would be little succulents and plants resting on windowsills, and the scent of warm cookies would always be present. In the daytime, they would go up to the roof and try and see if any of the clouds looked like dicks, and at nighttime, they’d make a cake and watch a movie, maybe snuggling close together, maybe Amami would be stroking his thigh. That was all a dream though, a dream born from sleep deprived conversations at three in the morning, yet still a pleasant one. Ouma could dream all he wanted, but he had to focus on the present, and the present was getting back into their regular business.

As soon as Amami walked through the door, Ouma was all over him, peppering excited kisses on his cheeks and leading him into the living room.

“To celebrate your freedom from the evil clutches of Kaede Akamatsu, I have a ton of surprises planned today!” Ouma exclaimed. Amami calmly nodded his head, curious as to what Ouma may have planned. “The first one is… drum roll please…”

Amami drummed his hands against the end table next to the couch, shaking the lamp just a bit.

“Well it’s a surprise! You’ll find out when we get there!”

Amami should have seen that one coming.

As quickly as Amami had come, he left the house with Ouma in the old, abandoned car parked on the side of the road. Ouma was driving, and Amami was sitting in the passenger seat with the window down, letting the warm spring breeze ruffle his hair and flutter against his eyelashes. Nothing could ever beat that feeling. Amami remembers it being one of the things he loved most when he was sailing his boat; that free feeling of the wind practically making you fly. The next time Amami took his boat out on the lake, Ouma would be by his side.

Time soared by quickly, and the minutes were filled with Ouma’s unimportant chatter about whatever he wanted, ranging from cool bugs he saw to what he had for dinner on his tenth birthday.

“And I was just like, ‘You’re being a bitch,’ and she was just like, ‘Come fight me then!’ So I obviously did!” Ouma admitted.

“You crushed ‘er?” Amami absentmindedly asked, coming back into the world.

“Of course! Just kidding! We didn’t fight at all! I beat her in table tennis and that was the end of it.”

“Score?”

“9-2. Stop asking me so many questions.”

“Who was 9, and who was 2?”

“Yes.”

Amami laughed, nudging Ouma’s forearm with his elbow, making the boy swerve around on the road a little. Ouma laughed in response to that.

They then arrived at their destination: a movie theater.

“You’re gonna want to hold onto this,” Ouma said, handing Amami an ID. It had a picture of Amami on it, perfectly edited to make it seem like he was at the DMV getting his photo taken, and it said his age was 22. Ouma brandished his own fake ID, where his age was 21.

“Dude, how’d you get fake IDs?” Amami asked. Ouma opened his mouth to answer, but Amami held up a finger in protest. “Actually, no, I don’t think I want to know. You just… never fail to surprise me, Ouma.”

Ouma leaned in for a kiss, quickly pecking Amami on the lips and giggling. “You’re so sweet, babe!”

Oh, the pet names. How they make Amami’s heart swell.

Ouma and Amami got out of the car, not hesitating for even a moment before grabbing each other’s hands.

“This might be the illegalest thing we’ve done yet, my sweet Amami-chan.”

“Yeah, but you know what? The IDs look pretty legit. I think we’re gonna be fine.” By now, Amami had figured out what the surprise was: sneaking into a movie theater’s 20+ section and thriving in the surplus of fancy recliner chairs and alcohol.

Ouma and Amami walked into the building, the potent scent of popcorn immediately hitting their noses. To their left was a small alcove filled with games, and to their right was a small bar. Ouma immediately headed towards the counter straight ahead, where colorful boxes of candy filled up a glass display case. He could hardly remain in one place, bouncing on the balls of his feet and rambling to Amami, “What should I get? Maybe something sweet? I’ll need something salty too! Maybe a…” Amami ended up not listening to most of Ouma’s tangent.

When it was their turn to get their food, they ordered a large popcorn and a box of sweet candy for Ouma. The drinks would be the super cool, super grown up booze they would order upon entering the 20+ section with their totally legit IDs!

Speedily, they made their way to the staircase leading up to the section. A drowsy-looking sat behind a counter, cheek impatiently rested in her hand. She lazily scanned over Ouma’s ID and gave him a half-assed thumbs-up. Ouma calmly walked up the staircase, and upon hitting the step at the top, he turned back and saw Amami was right behind him! Everything had worked out! Ouma could jump for joy, but no, he had to remain calm and cool and collected, because that’s what adults do.

The movie they were seeing was some cheesy romcom that Ouma didn’t really care much for. He just wanted to laugh at the inevitably bad acting with Amami.

They got their seats in the back, just to assure that they wouldn’t disturb the other moviegoers. They placed their orders using a digital touchscreen provided in front of their seats, and then waited, excitedly grinning at one another and giggling like schoolgirls.

Soon, the movie started, and their food came. Ouma had ordered two glasses of Zinfandel wine, since that was the only one the two knew of, other than Chardonnay, which was more expensive. He also ordered a pretzel, because he didn’t really care about matching flavors anymore. He’d just get what he wanted. He and Amami drank the wine for a split second before, grimacing and slamming the glasses down.

“Holy fuck that’s nasty,” Ouma whispered, hard to hear over the booming into music of the movie. Amami nodded his head, wiping off his lips with his sleeve. “At least these chairs are comfy though,” Amami brought up, wiggling a bit further into his. He wasn’t wrong. The chairs were nice, leathery recliners.

The movie was cheesy, as to be expected, but all the cheesiness in the air gave Amami an excuse to be cheesy as well. He wrapped his arm around Ouma’s shoulders, relishing in how Ouma melted into his touch. For some reason, he didn’t expect him to do that. Amami didn’t know if Ouma was comfortable with PDA, since he always seems a bit more relaxed and himself when they’re alone together, but is it still PDA if no one’s watching you?

They did suck each other’s faces off on the side of a busy highway, but maybe that doesn’t count? Is hand holding PDA? Friends do it all the time. Amami doesn’t know! He doesn’t know what boundaries Ouma has, and he’s afraid the boy will lie if he asks!

“What are you thinking about?” Ouma murmured, holding popcorn in his hand before popping it into his mouth.

“Oh, nothing.”

“Nothing? It doesn’t look like nothing. Let me in on the secret, Amami-chan!”

Courage. He needed courage, and he needed to look into Ouma’s eyes and see if he was lying or not. Amami turned his head, only inches from Ouma’s face. Their proximity made his heart jump, but that’s not to be focused on right now!

“Ouma, am I allowed to… like, I don’t know, kiss you in public and stuff?” Amami asked. He’s certain he slurred his words a bit and was inaudible or unintelligible. Or maybe both.

Ouma shot him a confused smile. “Of course? I’d suck your dick in front of a million people. I’m cool with whatever!”

Ah. That second statement really caught him off guard. They had never talked about anything sexual before, other than Ouma’s pretend sexting with him the night before, so that really got Amami nervous. Which is so weird! He’s not a nervous guy. He just wants to do so well for Ouma, because he deserves it, that it makes him nervous!

“Oh. Okay then,” Amami replied, thankful for the dark lighting so that Ouma couldn’t see the red tint high on his cheeks.

“What? Did I get you flustered?” Ouma cheekily asked, leaning even closer to Amami. He then whispered in the boy’s ear, “You know I’d do it. You know it.”

Amami didn’t know how to respond. He looked over at Ouma’s glass of Zinfandel and noticed it was still full. The kid wasn’t drunk; he was just an asshole.

“Keep it in your pants, dude,” Amami joked, chuckling and trying to seem a bit less rattled.

The rest of the movie went smoothly, with Ouma falling asleep on Amami’s shoulder, and Amami drinking both of their glasses just for the hell of it. Amami was truthfully a bit disappointed it was over, because today was one of those days where a cheesy romance movie just felt right. Not to say Amami didn’t have a cheesy romance of his own, though.

He considered carrying Ouma out but then decided against it, since he didn’t really know if it was safe for him to drive. He felt a little funny. He woke Ouma up during the credits, watching as the boy groggily opened his eyes and shook his head slightly. They two walked out together, heading towards the car in that comfortably tired stupor you get after watching a movie in a theater.

Ouma was driving once again, and Amami sat in the passenger seat. The car ride back to Ouma’s was quiet and warm, with the occasional remark about something from Ouma. They opened the front door to Ouma’s place and went inside.

“Let’s just take a nap, you and me. I’ll turn on the fireplace and we can just nap,” Ouma proposed.

“A nap sounds sick dude. Let’s do that.”  
They turned on the warm fireplace and immediately fell asleep on Ouma’s couch, Ouma atop Amami, comfortably snuggled into his chest. Ouma had made some sexual remarks while climbing atop Amami that the boy couldn’t remember now. His mind went blank as he watched Ouma snooze on top of him. Amami soon fell asleep as well, lithe arms wrapped snug around Ouma’s waist, not wanting to let go.

When Amami woke up after not feeling weight on his chest anymore, Ouma was clad in a black sweatshirt and jeans, standing above him playfully.

“Psst. The second surprise is here. Let’s go,” Ouma mouthed, in sweet and gentle tone. Amami slowly got up from the couch, his bones cracking just a bit. He followed Ouma out the door, yawning, still half asleep. They got back in the car, and Amami closed his eyes, still sleepy from his nap. He didn’t know how long Ouma had been awake.

Amami fell asleep once more, and when he woke up, he and Ouma were in a wide parking lot. The sky was beginning to get dark, and Amami then realized he didn’t know what time it was. Time always flew by when Amami was with Ouma anyways, so it really didn’t matter.

“Are we at school?” Amami asked, getting out of the car and squinting at the large building near the east end of the parking lot, “Why?”

“It’s a surprise, silly! You’re so impatient. I still love you though, it’s okay,” Ouma responded. As usual, he created more questions than answers. Ouma pulled a large duffle bag out of the trunk of the car, slamming the trunk door shut with a clatter. He handed the bag to Amami, which the boy hesitantly took. Amami thought about asking what was in it, but he knew the answer he would get. Surprises should remain surprises.

Ouma began creeping around the edges of the Hopes Peak school building like a silverfish, scuttling along the grass, peeking around corners, and looking back at a much less intense Amami every now and then It was nighttime, and black darkness snuck over the two boy’s heads, tiny stars and the illuminated moon twinkling innocently above them.

“Ouma, baby, what are we doing here? This building can suck my—”

“Quiet, Amami-chan! We’re on a covert operation,” Ouma whisper-yelled. He peeked around the corner of the wall they were hiding against, checking to see if the coast was clear of any security guards. Ouma turned back to Amami, smiling sweetly and whispering, “I’ll explain when we get there. For now, please just trust me, and keep a good hold of that bag.” Ouma looked at the heavy duffle bag in Amami’s hands.

“Is there a dead body in this?” Amami asked as the two of them skulked across the schoolyard, on the lookout for any cameras. Ouma waved him off from in front of him, an implicit “I’ll tell you when we get there, dipshit”. Amami was contemplating opening the bag, but the zipper may alert Ouma, and Amami would rather not have the boy be angry with him, especially when it appears like they’re doing their most illegal and dangerous thing yet.

Amami likes to hope Ouma won’t throw him under the bus, but the boy has told him many times that if they ever get caught doing something like this, Ouma would run from Amami without even looking back.

Amami also knows far too well that Ouma does not mean everything he says. He can see it in the boy’s eyes, how his teasing remarks and raucous actions aren’t reflected in those placid wisteria eyes of his. Ouma’s eyes encompass all but calamity, all but mischief, all but havoc. They hold fortitude, sorrow, and most of all, love. Love seems to reign supreme in Ouma’s world, and since Ouma and those eyes of admiration told Amami he loved him, Amami thinks Ouma would sacrifice himself for him if it ever needed to be. Amami hopes that’s never the case.  
After more moments of silence and increasing confusion from Amami, Ouma turned to him and quietly announced, “Okay, we’re here! Open the bag now. Slowly.”

Amami eagerly unzipped the bag, at first catching sight of steel. He further unzipped the bag and pulled one of the objects hidden within it out.

“Spray paint?” Amami asked, holding an aerosol can with dark blue paint inside of it. A devilish grin appeared across his face, and he shook the can quickly, hearing something within it click multiple times. Ouma smiled, heading over to the bag and sifting through it for a specific color. He advised, “don’t write your name, and don’t take too long. We should be out of here in fifteen minutes or less.”

Amami faced the brick wall of the school, considering what to write. Ouma was already up and painting, holding the can close to the wall to try and make as little noise as possible. Stygian drops of ink dripped down the coarse brick wall and into its dips of mortar. Amami was a bit glad they were doing something to the school; he was never too fond of it. The teachers here had an aptitude for giving him detention for just standing by Ouma whenever he did something bad. Ouma floods the boy’s bathroom? Give Amami detention. Ouma flies a drone in the gym and rips a girl’s hair out? Give Amami detention. The detention hall teacher must be used to me by now, Amami thinks.

Just then, an idea of what to write popped into his head. Amami shook the aerosol can one more time, maybe for good luck, and started writing. He first outlined what he wanted to do, then filled it in with a lighter blue, and added some accents around the edges with white and green. Finally, after five minutes of frenetic movement, he was finished. He took out his phone to take a picture, relatively satisfied with his work.

Ouma looked at the finished work and scoffed. “You literally wrote ‘your mom gay bottom text’ on the back of the school! How sick! It looks great, too,” Ouma praised him. Amami cheekily smiled, putting his phone in his back pocket. Amami then realized he hadn’t seen what Ouma wrote. He turned to look, mumbling out, “’Bitches with good pussy pee loud as fuck, sound like they frying chicken’… Nice.” Ouma snickered, rubbing his hands together devilishly. Amami wrapped his arm around Ouma’s waist and drummed his fingers along Ouma’s hip, basking in the glow of their amazing artwork.

“We should get out of here,” Ouma stated a couple minutes later, putting his can of spray paint back in the bag and then looking at Amami. Amami did the same, before zipping the bag up and following behind Ouma again.

They made their journey back to car, speedily starting it up and hightailing out of there, laughing the whole way back home.

“They’re never gonna catch us! We were so slick!” Ouma bragged.

“Why, Ouma, you were the one doing the most work! You’re the reason we aren’t getting caught!” Amami replied, placing his hand on Ouma’s thigh. Ouma kept a steady hold of the steering wheel while smiling up at Amami. “You’re too kind to me, Amami-chan!”

“I can’t say you don’t deserve it,” Amami flirted. Ouma batted his hand away, cheeks pink.

“Keep that up and I’ll crash the car.”

“So I finally got you flustered, then? It’s payback for that sexting thing.”

“Fine. Whatever. I hate you.”

“No you don’t.”

———

Ouma, 11:18 AM: hi?????? where r u honeybun sugar oat love muffin cake?

Amami, 11:34 AM: Hey! Sorry I left without saying something, I wanted to check up on my dorm and be back by 9 but I got caught up with helping Angie renovate her room. I’m on my way back tho

Ouma, 11:35 AM: haha its cool! so that means u were at the school ?

Amami, 11:35 AM: Yup, and our masterpieces are still there

Amami, 11:36 AM: I don’t think any staff has seen em yet

Ouma, 11:36 AM: sick

Amami, 11:36 AM: Right! You can spend the night with me tonight in my dorm you know, the place is all cleaned up

Ouma, 11:37 AM: i think im gonna take you up on that offer

Amami, 11:37 AM: Okay!

Ouma, 11:37 AM: see u in a few dicklicker

Amami, 11:37 AM: Right back at you cockwaffle!

Ouma, 11:38 AM: delete my number.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> since i'm a minor, i apologize if the dine-in movie theater scene is inaccurate! google couldn't help me out there

**Author's Note:**

> i apologize for any formatting errors! please comment your thoughts and suggestions below! thanks for reading!


End file.
